


Dèjá Vu

by dawnstruck



Category: Arthurian Mythology, Merlin - Fandom, Merlin-RPF
Genre: Angst, Bradley hit his head, Bromance, Drama, Humor, M/M, Meta, Ninja!Angel, Ninja!Katie, Past Character Death, RPF with a twist!, Rebirth!, Slash, Strong Friendship - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-05
Updated: 2012-06-05
Packaged: 2017-11-06 23:55:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 37,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/424609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dawnstruck/pseuds/dawnstruck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"The script says that when Arthur sees Merlin lying on the ground, motionless and bloody, he is supposed to feel disbelief and fury. But Bradley does not. Bradley sees Merlin, motionless and bloody, and remembers."</p><p>First four chapters can be read as Bromance, bonus chapter includes some slight slash, but story can be read without it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'd never thought I'd write RPF because it usually creeps me out, but I had this idea and it worked out so well that I couldn't stop myself.  
> This story is also available on fanfictiondotnet under the username Seith.

 

**Awakening** ****

 

One thing Bradley knew for certain, even before he opened his eyes, was that he felt really truly awful. And he had no idea why.

Forcing his heavy lids to open, he stared up at the ceiling and tried to take in the situation. His body felt strangely sore, a dull ache all over, like an unpleasant mixture between severe exhaustion, a fresh hangover and remaining sleep. His head was probably off worst, throbbing in an irregular rhythm that had white and red stars dancing behind his pupils.

When he attempted to look around, the muscles in his neck seemed too weak to obey so his head lolled to the side, making him blink in confusion as he recognized his surroundings. He was inside of the trailer that was used as the film sets mini-hospital for the times anyone needed some medical treatment. Bradley had been here often enough, usually for small ailments like a cut on his finger or a bleeding nose, accidents that happened when he got sloppy during a fight scene.

He had never, though, woken up in here because that implied that he had lost consciousness. And seriously, what could knock him out like that? Probably something embarrassing like tripping over his own feet and splitting his skull open on a pebble. Oh God, the others would never let him live that down.

What confused him, however, was the fact that no one had taken him to a real hospital. He didn't feel terribly bad but whatever had happened had taken him down for quite a while. Wouldn't anyone have assumed that he had suffered a concussion? Wasn't anybody worried about him? He could think of a few individuals who would make mean jokes along the lines of 'You were already brain-dead before, so no harm done'. But it really did seem somewhat unusual. Not that passing out while shooting a scene was anything usual at all.

"Aren't you going to ask some questions?" a wry voice inquired and Bradley carefully managed to sit up in the narrow bed. At the other end of the trailer stood a small table along with two hideous, green plastic chairs. One of them was being occupied by Colin who had his elbows propped up on the tabletop, chin resting on his hands in a contemplative manner, watching Bradley studiously.

With a slight groan Bradley moved the muscles around his shoulder blades, hoping to get rid of the stiff, heavy feeling in his limbs.

"How long have I been out?" he asked, noting that the golden light which streamed through the window did not really give any indication about what time it was, but Colin had changed out of his costume and into a dark blue

t-shirt and cargo shorts.

"A while," Colin answered vaguely and Bradley gave him a look.

"How long is 'a while'?"

"One hour and twelve minutes."

Bradley stared. "Oh," he said simply, hunching forward so that his back was slumped, every fiber of his being protesting against the movement, "What happened, then?"

"You fainted," Colin told him flatly and Bradley couldn't help but splutter.

"I did not!" he objected, attempting something like a glare, but failingmiserably.

"Yes, you did," Colin leaned back in his chair, still looking at him, strangely intent, strangely alert, the expected grin absent.

It occurred to Bradley that Colin had not greeted him with 'Good morning, sunshine!' or 'Wakey, wakey, Sleeping Beauty!' or something similarly inane, but that he seemed very focused and serious.

Maybe, thought Bradley, maybe his accident had been more severe that he had assumed. Maybe Colin was just worried.

"Tell me what happened," he demanded with a slight frown but Colin shook his head, "Tell me what you remember."

"We were shooting the fight scene?" he said slowly, the memories unfolding in his mind, bright and powerful, though fuzzy round the edges.

They had been out in the open, a grassy hillside, lustrous green, smudged clouds adorning the sky, the guard lowered, and then there had been an ambush and suddenly they were surrounded and he had pulled forth his sword and fought, Sir Kay and Sir Lancelot by his side, Merlin somewhere behind him, surely fighting as well fierce and fiery like always.

Whoa. Bradley startled eyes wide. Non-sense, he chided himself. Kay and Lancelot hadn't been in this scene, in this episode at all. Lancelot wasn't even a knight yet. He had been with Geraint and Leon instead, of course. How could he have messed that up? So, he had grabbed Excalibur- , no his normal sword, Arthur didn't have Excalibur, and then-

They had fought. A fight scene like any other, carefully choreographed, without the stunt doubles stepping in. They had taken down the attackers. Fight scene over. So, he had not gotten someone's ax smashed against the back of his skull. Shit. Did that mean he had really tripped? It had been raining beforehand, so the grass had been slightly damp; he must've slipped during the next take when he had turned around to find Merlin passed out cold, a graceless heap in the dirt, a trickle of blood on his chin-

Bradley gasped as pain exploded inside of his skull, an invisible pull behind his eyeballs, annoying and distracting, as he tried to concentrate.

"Tell me what you remember!" Colin repeated his demand from what felt like centuries ago and when Bradley managed to focus on that voice, on that face he noticed that his friend had leant forward, something between hope and anxiety displayed on his features.

"I, uh," Bradley stuttered, scratching his temple as if that would help him ignore the pain, "I was- I don't know. I turned around and saw you, ran over and then- I felt strange. Like a circulatory collapse. Or a déjà vu. And then- then I passed out, I think."

Yes, that sounded about right, didn't it? Maybe the break after the fight scene hadn't been long enough. Maybe he had just been dizzy and moving too quickly.

"What kind of déjà vu?" Colin wanted to know, "What did you see? What did you feel?"

For someone who should be more concerned about Bradley's health he sure asked a lot of questions.

"I, uh, I was concentrating on my role, of course," he recalled, thinking of his lines, of his stage directions.

The script said that when Arthur sees Merlin lying on the ground, bloody and motionless, he is supposed to feel fury and disbelief. But Bradley did not. Bradley saw Merlin, bloody and motionless, and remembered.

"Devastation," he breathed, staring down at the white-knuckled grip his hands had on the thin blanket, "Fear, loss. I… I didn't understand how they managed to take you down. You could've just-"

He broke off, feeling bewildered.

"Bullocks," he said, laughing weakly, "I don't- I mean, Arthur doesn't know about Merlin's magic. We-"

He stopped again, looking at Colin, hoping for reassurance although he wasn't quite sure what he needed to be assured of. Maybe of his own sanity.

But Colin only returned that imploring look in silence as if he, too, was waiting to hear something else, some kind of revelation.

"God," in a vain attempt to regain his posture Bradley rubbed the heels of his hands over his eyes. He wanted to lie down again but felt that it would only make things worse and remind him of his own vulnerability. Moving around a bit and drinking some water would surely help.

Slowly, as not to trigger another wave of nausea, he flipped the blanket back and placed his feet on the floor to push himself up. Colin didn't tell him to stay put, so Bradley slouched over and slumped down on the other chair before he straightened up and placed his palms flat on the surface of the table, forcing all of his muscles to tense and then relax, tense and relax. He still felt exhausted and uncomfortable in his own skin, but it was good to know that he had full control of his body.

"I'm fine," he told Colin who was eyeing him critically.

"Really?"

"Yeah," Bradley nodded and then winced, "Well, mostly. My head hurts."

"Hm," Colin only grunted, a sound that could've meant anything, but then he reached out his left hand and placed two fingertips on the center of Bradley's forehead, rubbing slow circles, once, twice, a strangely soothing sensation, and involuntarily Bradley's eyes fluttered shut.

When he opened them again a few moments later Colin's hand was gone. As was the headache.

"Whoa," Bradley said in a lack of anything smarter to say, "That is- Was that a pressure point of something? I didn't know you could do that."

Colin smiled mysteriously, "Maybe I'm magic."

"Yeah, right," Bradley laughed, a liberating feeling as the tight knot in his chest dissolved and he could breathe freely again, rejuvenated like never before.

"Seriously, though," he said, sobering a little, "This is one crazy day."

And again Colin just looked at him. It was getting really unnerving. Like Colin was gazing directly into his very core, making his skin crawl.

"So, I assume the shoot has been canceled for today?" Bradley asked, hoping to change the subject. Or rather: the atmosphere.

For a moment it was Colin who looked surprised, but then he blinked the confusion away and nodded.

"Yea," he replied, averting his gaze before it flickered back, "I told them you had been feeling slightly under the weather since you got up this morning and assured them that it was nothing serious. So they shouldn't be overly worried."

"Huh?" Bradley cocked his head to the side, "But I was just fine. Splendid actually. That was, until-"

"Until what?" Colin cut in, leaning forward, staring again, "Until what?"

Bradley laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head in a nervous manner, "Colin, sorry if my passing out scared you or something, but right now you're scaring me, so…"

He trailed off as Colin only closed his eyes with a long, tired sigh. And just like that he looked very, very old as if all the fight had been drained out of him after the recent complications.

What fight, Bradley wondered helplessly. What complications?

"Colin?" he asked carefully, unsure of what to do, how to behave around this unusually serious version of his friend.

But Colin just shrugged his thin shoulders and ran long, pale fingers through his hair. The dark strands were sticking up in every which direction, indicating that he had been tugging at them while Bradley had been unconscious.

"It's okay," Colin said, more to himself than anything else, a forced mantra, a repetitious prayer, "It's okay."

"Colin?" Bradley asked once more, feeling left out of the loop, "Are you- Can I- What the hell is wrong with you?"

The smile that spread over Colin's face was so defeated, so devastating that Bradley felt his chest constrict.

"It's okay," Colin echoed his poor excuse for an explanation, his eyes clenched shut in that tight, fake smile, making a move to stand up, "You should probably lie down again and get some more rest. I'll just-"

"Whoa, wait a sec!" blindly Bradley reached out and seized Colin's wrist, "This is not fair! I pass out and when I wake up again you act all weird and dodgy. What's the matter? Was it you who knocked me out? Did I almost bite the dust or what?"

Colin's lips pursed and he turned away his gaze, making Bradley wonder whether the words he had meant more or less jokingly had come close to the truth. Obviously, he mused, he hadn't come close to death or he would have been shipped off straight to a hospital. So did that mean the accident had really involved Colin in some sort of way?

"Hey," Bradley tugged at his friend's arm to make him sit down again, "I'm fine. I feel great. You even got rid of that headache, so… that's good, right?"

He didn't want Colin to go blame himself. Especially if there was nothing to be blamed for. Accidents happened. And Bradley was pretty sure that Colin hadn't done anything to endanger him, he had been unconscious after all, badly wounded, and Arthur had dropped to his knees with an anguished cry, torn between wanting to shake him awake and hold him close or to search for a pulse without aggravating the injuries, the gashing cut on his side, deep and heavily bleeding-

With a half-hearted groan Bradley buried his face in his palms, trying to escape the onslaught of emotions but his hands smelled of leather and fresh blood and they were shaking uncontrollably, sights and sounds whizzing through his hazy mind, the dead men on the ground, Lancelot asking urgent questions, Merlin's prone body in front of him, pale, so pale and-

Bradley gasped and reeled back, his jaw dropping and then snapping shut as he realized where he was, namely in the medical trailer, with Colin across the table, Colin, not Merlin, wide awake and safe, because it was just fiction, just an adventurous tale, there had been no fight and he was not King Arthur.

"Alright," he chuckled or sobbed, he wasn't sure, "I must've bashed my head in real bad because I seem to be losing my mind."

He glanced up at Colin, expecting to see amusement or worry or both, but his friend only regarded him with something like silent understanding, and for some reason that was all the more unsettling.

"You said," Colin began, reaching for the small notebook that lay on the table, opening it at a random blank page before grabbing the plastic ballpen that was attached to it, "You said that when you fainted it felt like a déjà vu. Why?"

Bradley took a deep, though not overly calming breath, contemplating whether it was wise to confide in Colin and tell him that he had momentarily lost his grip on reality and was plagued by a severe case of identity confusion.

"It was- it was stupid," he admitted, his voice shaking, "I… You should know that I'm a damn good actor, so… while we were filming, I got so worked up, I dunno…"  
Colin had started doodling into the notebook, ballpen scratching against the paper, so he barely even glanced up, "And then? The emotional scenes are always somewhat draining. No reason to faint like a girl."

Usually Colin would've said something like that in a teasing tone and Bradley's wouldn't have been offended, but there was a sharp edge in his voice, so unfamiliar and provoking, and considering the gravity of the situation-

"I don't know, okay!" Bradley hissed, barely registering that he was acting out of character himself, "I hadn't expected the ambush, I was caught off guard! And then you fool are not even capable of defending yourself! You could've just thrown fire at them and got it over with, but instead I turn around to see- Bloody hell, I thought I had lost you, Merlin!"

By the time he realized what he had just said Bradley was breathing hard and he wanted to bite his tongue off. But was Colin gazing at him with a completely calm expression as if mental breakdowns weren't anything out of the ordinary for Bradley. Instead he seemed almost… relieved. Happy even.

"Dammit," Bradley slumped forward, his forehead pressed against the edge of the tabletop, his fingernails painfully digging into his scalp as he clenched his hands.

"Bradley," Colin said quietly as if he were talking to a frightened child and not to a totally crazed nutjob, "Look at me."

Sucking in a shuddering breath Bradley forced himself to listen to reason (aka Colin) and sat up straight. Looking Colin in the eye, though, was definitely harder than expected.

"I'm sorry, mate," Bradley feebly tried to laugh it off, shifting uncomfortably in his chair, "I'm just… you know, kinda out of it. Must be the heat. Or something."

"Or something," Colin agreed and then pushed the notebook towards him, "Do you recognize this?"

"Of course," Bradley answered automatically, glancing down at the elaborate drawing Colin had scribbled down with anthracite-colored ink, "It's my crest. I mean, the Pendragon crest. Well, sorta."

Because it wasn't, not really. A crest depicting a dragon, but not the one that had been designed for the series. But it was still familiar. Too familiar.

"Hm," Colin said once more, but finally there was a silent smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, a single dimple already forming.

"What's going on?" Bradley demanded because he really, really needed an answer, "I feel like I'm missing something vital despite the fact that it's directly in front of me. Do you think I'm going crazy?"

Colin shook his head, "Not necessarily."

And then he neatly tore the page out of the notebook, ripping it into tiny pieces, bit by bit. It would've seemed like a nervous habit hadn't he appeared to be perfectly calm and at ease around his suddenly-gone-mad best mate.

"Bradley," he said with strange intensity in his narrowed eyes, "Please don't faint again."

"I didn't faint!" Bradley huffed despite this whole bizarre situation and watched as Colin held a hand above the small, miserable heap of confetti. Neither said anything but in front of their eyes the shreds of paper began moving as if by unseen currents of wind, a miniature tornado, before they aligned themselves in a square form, fusing back together. And then the page was whole again, not a single dog's ear, not one rip, the dragon majestic and intimidating, forming the Pendragon crest under which Arthur had been born more than fifteen centuries ago.

And then Bradley fainted.

 

**~o0o~**

 

When Bradley woke for the third time that day in total and for the second time feeling like a bloody train had run him over, he decided to officially dub this 'The day on which all went downhill'. The unofficial title would be something along the lines of 'The day on which I realized that I was absolutely nutters and had developed a split personality which believed itself to be the King of Albion'.

Actually that sounded like a damn good subtitle for his early autobiography _. Bradley James – two sides of a coin – all by himself!_

Yup, he would have to talk to his manager about that splendid idea. After all he would probably have a lot of time to kill once he had been admitted to the lunatic asylum. _Bradley James –_ _The man from the loony bin._ That would be the poorly produced documentation which would be aired after his untimely death at the hands of- of what exactly? Was he going to believe that someone was trying to attack him and then get himself killed in a stupid act of self-defense? Death by idiocy. Sadly, that didn't seem all that far-fetched.

"I know that you're awake."

And that was when Bradley was reminded of the fact that he wasn't the only witness to his first bouts of insanity, but that Colin had most likely already called someone who would bring a pretty, white, Bradley-sized straitjacket.

"Please tell me that everything was just a dream and that I knocked myself out and that this is the first time I have woken up," he pleaded, clenching his eyes shut in deep concentration as if that would make his desperate wish come true.

"Sorry, can't do that," Colin didn't laugh but the sounds of light, easy steps indicated that he was moving through the trailer and then a weight settled on the mattress so Bradley peered up through half-lidded eyes.

Colin still looked oddly calm, even as he pressed his fingertips to Bradley's forehead again and simply rubbed the reawakened headache away, just like he had done before.

For a few silent seconds Bradley mulled that thought over in his now thankfully lucid - well, at least less befuddled – brain.

"I didn't dream, did I?" he asked hesitantly and Colin smiled softly, unnervingly, all-knowingly.

"Is this payback for all the pranks I pulled?" Bradley tried instead, "And this is everyone's collective revenge? So, great, you got me. Everyone but me had a laugh. Can we please stop now?"

But Colin just lifted a hand, the page with the Pendragon crest pinched between pointer finger and thumb. Bradley knew that although he refused to look at it.

"Colin, seriously," he said, short-tempered, pushing himself up and closer to the wall, tugging his knees up to his chest in an instinctual self-protective motion.

"I mean it," he added when his vengeful friend kept presenting the paper, "This stopped being funny before it even began."

And just like that the paper burst into flames, the dragon being devoured by fire, alive and crackling, dancing in Colin's palm.

Merlin did that from time to time, after Colin murmured incoherent words with his fake English accent and still stood empty-handed, after a bunch of special effects designers edited the scene, after the sound supervisors added the peculiar hiss of sizzling hot air, and even then it never seemed so real.

Bradley stared. Colin inclined his head slightly, gaze never leaving Bradley, and blew out a mouthful of breath, blew a kiss, only that the kiss was the flame that gracefully leapt from his grasp and sailed through thin air.

"You can touch it if you want to," Colin offered without any sort of explanation and Bradley should've been frightened out of his wits – and maybe he was – but in that moment he could not resist the temptation, fascinated by this beautiful impossibility.

Not even thinking about what he was doing, he lifted his hand towards the tiny fire, careful as if he were trying to gain the trust of a stray dog that might bite him. The flames, however, happily licked his fingers, hot but not burning, easing into his hold as though they belonged to him.

"You always liked playing with fire," Colin said wistfully, a melancholic glint in his eyes.

"That's not true," Bradley replied, not quite sure why and to what exactly he was objecting.

"Most of the time, at least," Colin insisted, "Asked for my council and yet rarely ever followed my advice. Quite maddening, I assure you."

"Non-sense," Bradley frowned, both at Colin's accusations and at how easily the words dripped from his own tongue, "I always trusted your guidance and relied on you. Tell me one time-"

"Mordred," his friend cut him off, his smile wavering but not fading, "The Battle at Camlann. I told you, twice you had fought bravely, but not a third time, it would be your death. And it was."

Bradley opened and closed his mouth, at a loss at how to react to that bullshit.

"I could not let him succeed," Arthur answered fervently, "Should I have left my kingdom under his reign? Morgana had sown foul thoughts in his heart and with those he intended to enthrall those who I had sworn to serve. Albion was mine to fight for and to protect."

"And you were mine, my King," Merlin spoke dutifully, his eyes downcast, his voice a mere whisper.

"What the heck?" Bradley yelped and snapped back to reality. Or whatever qualified as reality. He wasn't so sure anymore. Noting that the strange fire was still in his hand, he quickly shook free of it as if he had been burned after all and it dissolved without a trace, no soot on his skin, no smoke in his mouth.

At that Colin actually sighed heavily and rolled his eyes in exasperation, but the slump of his shoulders betrayed that he didn't find any of this amusing either.

"How could I have believed that this was going to be easy once I had found you?" he muttered, shaking his head, "With you it always has to be difficult. Even after all these years."

He fell silent for a moment, seemed to decide on something, nodded and then pinned Bradley with a piercing stare.

"Listen, Arthur," he said slowly, "We have to sort this out before you actually snap."

"Oh, I think I already did," Bradley squeaked, pressing back against the wall, "Or you did. Or both of us. Maybe it's catching. Maybe it's eating our brains!"

Colin faltered slightly, a breath escaping him without the words he surely intended to speak.

"Ah," he caught himself again, "Then I doubt there's much to be found in your head."

"Well, you're one to talk," Bradley really tried to get his voice back under control but it was actually damn difficult, "You just called me Arthur. While we are neither filming nor running lines. You never slipped like that."

"That's because I didn't slip," Colin pointed out, "I did it on purpose. Because that's your name."

"No, it's not," Bradley wondered why it tasted like a lie on his tongue, why he was trying harder to convince himself than to convince Colin, Colin who was an actor but who could rarely ever keep a straight face when they were pulling a prank together – why would that have changed now?

"My name is Bradley James," he said with emphasis, dimly aware of the fact that it made him sound like a madman, "I am an actor. I am not truly King Arthur."

There was a flicker of something akin to pity on Colin's face, "Then why do you doubt it yourself?"

"I- I don't," Bradley stuttered, his brow furrowing, "I'm just… confused. Hit my head and all that."

"You know that you didn't hit your head," Colin reminded him, "You said it was a déjà vu, triggered by the sight of my lifeless body and thinking me dead. Do you remember?"

"I don't remember anything," Bradley insisted though it was just another lie for there were wisps of- of something fluttering through his subconscious, barely under the surface, only he didn't dare reach out and touch them, afraid that they were real, that they were memories, that that was his life, had been his life, that he was-

"King Arthur," Colin spoke softly, yet with conviction, "Son of Uther Pendragon. Ruler of all Albion. My liege. My friend. And you say that you forgot?"

"Uh, Colin, you-" Bradley was still trying to work out what was happening to him. This couldn't be a joke. No one would ever pull such an elaborate prank, not if Bradley was so obviously lost and confused, none of his costars would dare do that, not his friends, especially not-

"Merlin," Arthur sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, "You have to keep in mind how much time has passed. I suspected that you were hoping to change something by taking me to Avalon, but I still do not understand all of it."

"I brought you there to save you," Merlin replied, suddenly somewhat meek, "I couldn't just let you die. I could not prevent it, but I had to try and do something. Avalon has always welcomed me. I knew she would welcome you, too."

"But I died," Arthur prodded, "I remember dying. I don't remember being born again, but I remember growing up once more, protected by my family. I remember teachers and friends and lovers, happiness and grief, success and disappointment. I am proud of who I am. But I don't know who that man is and what his life is doing inside of me."

"You are him", Merlin explained gently, in the same soothing voice he had used when Arthur had been dying, sucking in shallow breaths, the enraged storms of Avalon failing to fill his lungs, "And he is you. I struck a bargain with the Old Ones and they granted me my request. You were reborn, though it took many years."

"Hold on a second," Bradley gaped at him, "You are telling me that I am the rebirth of effing King Arthur?"

Merlin sighed. Colin face-palmed. Or maybe both did.

"This would be much easier if you didn't keep switching," he noted.

"Switching?" Bradley parroted, "There is an alter ego inside of me and you expect me to just let it do whatever it wants?"

"It's not an alter ego," Colin told him, "It's you. It's always been you. But you only remembered today. The déjà vu tore down the barriers that prevented you from remembering all at once. The onslaught of memories was too much, though, that's why you passed out."

Bradley couldn't quite believe that they were having this conservation. And that he was not as freaked out as he ought to be.

"So," a nervous little laugh escaped him, "I'm really Arthur. And you're really Merlin."

"Hm," Colin made an ambiguous noise, "Right now I am more Merlin than you are Arthur, because you're still caught up in your Bradley-ness while I can be myself."

Bradley blinked, wondering why Bradley-ness kinda sounded like an insult, "And why is that? I mean, why can you… you know?"

"You are currently going through the very difficult phase of letting both of your lives adept to each other," Colin elaborated, "All of your memories, all your experiences are being compared and sorted out. It's like a computer overload because of too much data. Not to mention that I imagine it to be quite a shock to find out that you have lived before."

"Wait," Bradley held up his hand, "You _imagine_ it to be a shock? Haven't you gone through the same?"

"Nope," Colin shook his head, "I was never reborn. I've always been Merlin. For one-thousand-six-hundred years. Considering my age, I still look damn good, don't you think?"

Bradley gaped but then Colin's suggestive eyebrow wiggle was enough to pull a chuckle from his throat.

"But," he faltered, a terrible idea occurring to, "Then… Colin doesn't even exist? Arthur gets his friend back while I lose mine? That's… that's not fair."

"No, I _am_ Colin!" Colin added hastily, "I've spend the past years with this life. I am Colin and I am your friend. That won't ever change. Just… think of it like… we have always been friends, both in the past and now. That's got to count for something, right?"

"But when Merlin- when you," Bradley was annoyed with himself as he fumbled at how to formulate the question, "Arthur was reborn as Bradley, I get that now. One and a half millennia passed – while you twiddled your thumbs and picked your nose?"

Colin pulled a disgusted face, "I don't pick my nose."

"Then what were you doing?"

"Waiting," Colin said and then he grew silent and old and tired, like another layer placed over his eyes, his face, and he was Merlin once more.

"For such a long time I waited," he recalled, folding his hands that held such power, "I laid you to rest on Avalon and sealed your grave. Then I returned to the mortal realm and to your kingdom. Mordred was dead. Camelot had been freed. I hunted down Morgana. When I found her she was but a mere shadow of herself. The shock of losing her son had devastated her. I let her live, out of pity, out of spite, out of my own weakness. She died a few years later, though, lonely and scornful, much like she had lived. I wished it could have been different."

Bradley could feel Arthur trying to resurface but he pushed him down on purpose, wanting to really understand this. His knowledge of the Arthurian Legend was getting mixed up with the plotline for BBC's Merlin, so he hurried to work it out, to come to terms with it.

Morgana had probably really been Arthur's sister, and if she was Mordred's mother then Arthur had been ruthlessly killed by his own nephew. That was what raised the tension of the series: Morgana's ascension into darkness and insanity, Arthur's blindness his and belief of whatever good remained inside of her, Uther's hypocrisy and desperation.

Bradley was well aware of the fact that the BBC adaption was based very loosely on the different versions of the legend, but to actually think that some of it had actually happened to him, that all that loss and pain was not part of his acting but somehow the truth, a part of his past.

He had died. He had _died._

Whatever control Arthur's consciousness held over him send wisps of memories into his brain. A hill. Once green and vivid, but turned into a battlefield, soaked with blood and dead bodies strewn all over. The cried and moans of the poor souls that still clung on to life. The sky a threatening grey, overcast with towers of clouds like walls of solid stone. The scent of storm heavy in the air, but tainted by the stench of blood all around. Sweat clinging to his battered body. Exhaustion. Breathlessness. A dry mouth. Mordred, waiting for him.

Bradley closed his eyes against it, though it made no difference. The threats, the insults, the accusations. Circling round each other. Drawing their swords. The actual fight. But no fear, no, Arthur did not have much left to lose anymore. It was all or nothing. Camelot or death. He'd never surrender.

"He was dying," he whispered, his eyes still shut, "I had him slain. It was over. I thought it was over."

But he had knelt down by his nephew's side, had looked into his eyes and hoped to find something redeemable there, wanted to find it in himself to forgive, to accept. And Mordred, the coward, the traitor, the thief had pulled a dagger from beneath his cloak and plunged it into Arthur's side.

Bradley winched, feeling his gut clench as if there was real pain radiating from the sliced flesh and the hot blood oozing out of the wound. The blow was fatal, Arthur knew that, knew that even before Mordred wretched the blade free with one last defiant grin. The grin that Arthur had grown up with, so used to seeing it on Morgana's face. Why had his family been torn apart like this?

Bradley's fingers itched to reach for his side, to assure himself that there was no lingering injury, not even scarred skin to remind him of it, and that all that was left was the painful memory of something that had not happened in this life. It still hurt faintly, though the emotional impact was stronger than the physical one.

All or nothing. Camelot or death. That was how fate ridiculed him? He won back his throne but was still denied to claim it once more? He won but still died? That was what he had been working towards to his entire life, what he had believed in when Merlin promised him destiny?

Maybe Merlin had seen the expression on his face, maybe he could read thoughts (Bradley wouldn't be really surprised anymore), but he seemed to know what was going on in his friend's head (or, Bradley amended, maybe it was just that and they were friends and supposed to know such things).

"Life always ends in death, Bradley, you have to understand that," he told him gently, touching cool fingertips to a nervously twitching hand, "No one can escape it. It is the final step and the inevitable conclusion. Do not bemourn your own death after you accomplished what you wanted in life. That was your destiny and I am sorry that I could not have changed it to a gentler end. But grieving is for those that stay behind. You died readily and without regret. Few achieve such peace of mind; you did, however, and thus eased _our_ grief."

Bradley took a deep, steadying breath through his nose and slowly exhaled it again. At the same time he could feel Arthur pushing upwards again; in dire need for a short break, he let him succeed.

"I know," Arthur replied calmly, "And yet there are so many things I do not understand, so many questions I want to ask."

"Then ask," Merlin smiled openly, "Ask and I shall answer like I have always done."

"You say all life ends in death," the king spoke slowly, "And yet you stand before me, many centuries past, and claim that you are still the same. One of those two must be a lie or at least inaccurate."

"Ah," Merlin nodded, "I would never tell you lies, my lord, so my wording is, indeed, inaccurate. All life _eventually_ ends in death. Mine will, too, one day. I do not know when exactly, but I feel that it must happen. Until then I have some time left."

At that Arthur felt slightly pacified; it wouldn't do to be reborn only to lose Merlin shortly after.

"But I have interrupted your tale," he noticed, "You had just begun to speak about your long wait. So you let Morgana live. And then?"

"I made my way back to Camelot," Merlin continued, "To find that most of those who had fled had already returned as well. Change is a fickle thing. Little of Mordred's rule remained inside the city's walls. Life resumes, even without its kings. Even without us."

And Arthur knew what was to come, had suspected it ever since he had woken up again.

"Sir Lancelot asked for my permission to wed Guinevere," Merlin confessed in a soft voice, "I gave them my blessing. She needed someone to take care of her and I knew that you would trust no one but him. They missed you dearly and there was often a shadow upon them, but I believe that they were happy."

Arthur nodded gravely. Lancelot, his most trusted and faithful knight, had loved Guinevere deeply, though always from a respectful distance. It was good like this. It felt right. He wouldn't have wanted either of them to drown his sorrow upon his death. They had continued to live. That was what he had wished for.

A silently inquiring look was enough to show Merlin that he wanted to know about his other love, the one that was not only in his heart but in his blood as well.

"Camelot prevailed," Merlin told him, "Guinevere returned to the throne. Lancelot refused to be crowned king, though he served as her most important advisor and proudly stood by her side. She was a capable queen, tender yet strong. The people loved her."

Arthur smiled. He had seen those qualities when he had fallen in love with her. If nothing else she would have led him to greatness.

"They had a three sons," Merlin added, carefully watching Arthur as if ready to soothe any pain, "They grew up beautifully and ruled liked their mother. I left it all in their hands."

At this Merlin faltered suddenly, his gaze dropping.

"I…" he began, his tone uncertain, "I couldn't stay. I couldn't watch as they divided your kingdom, however well the governed it. I had to leave. My powers and my voice and my trust were meant for you. It felt wrong to remain without you."

Arthur looked at him imploringly, "Then… what did you do?"

To hear all those stories, all those days he had missed, all those developments that had happened because he was no longer there… it was disconcerting to hear. But to see Merlin like this was worse still.

His shoulders were hunched forward and he seemed small, so small, fragile even, and that should just not be.

Arthur and Merlin had always been strong. Even as silver streaked their hair, rich and beautiful like Arthur's golden crown. Even as lines and creases wrinkled their faces, a map of the path that was their life. Even as old and new scars marred their bodies, reminders of what they had survived. They had always been strong, always remained side by side.

"I waited," Merlin's voice was trembling in fear, in grief, in exhaustion, "One-thousand-five-hundred years I waited. Traveled the world for a while. Came across strange lands and even stranger people. They taught me a lot; I learned a lot. Then I returned to Avalon to guard your grave. Time passes differently there. When I returned to the mortal realm, Camelot had ceased to exist. Please to not scorn me for not standing by her, but I understand this now: few kingdoms and even fewer kings may come to greatness – but all of them must fall one day. You cannot prevent this. Times change and Time changes. That is the only thing that will never change."

Arthur gave him a slightly exasperated looked. The only other thing that never changed was Merlin's passion for grand speeches and riddles. If nothing else he could have made a fortune with writing romance novels.

"It's alright," he replied and found that it was the truth, "It'd be foolish to expect everything to be like I left it behind. Too much time has passed. Not to mention that the knowledge of my current life is seeping into me. I know that to most we are nothing more than a myth. I know that for claiming to have magic you are no longer sentenced to death nowadays but viewed as insane. This world is not quite my home but I believe I will be able to live in it."

Merlin's face lit up in a lopsided smile, "Well, I'm afraid you don't have much of a choice either way."

The age and gravity of the wizard was slowly melting away, leaving Colin fresh and raw like a patch of grass after winter's snow melted away.

For a moment they sat like this, each lost in their own thoughts, sorting themselves out and setting everything straight. Bradley decided to come forth again and noticed that it was getting easier, that it was becoming a conscious decision. Possibly because he was adapting to the whole concept, possibly because his own existence was steadily blendingwith that of Arthur. Once they had become one there would be no more switching, no more surrendering to the presence of a stranger. It was a crazy thought, but strangely comforting.

"How did you find me?" Bradley asked suddenly. It seemed like a ridiculous question compared to how easily he accepted the concept of Colin being magic and himself being reborn, but it still buggered him.

He gave Colin a long, hard stare, "It's no coincidence that we happen to be Merlin and Arthur in a TV show, is it?"

Colin gave a little, startled laugh. "No, it's not," he admitted with a fond smile, "When I found you again I wanted to cry and hug you and say your name and tell you everything that had happened. But I knew that I couldn't. Your mind had to work through the process of rebirth on its own. Otherwise I would have had to fear for your sanity. So I waited again. I've gotten quite good at that, you know. Though being patient was definitely more difficult when I knew where you lived, _that_ you lived at all. But I managed."

He fell silent for a moment, before continuing in an excited tone as if to distract from the distress he must have been in, "When I realized that you wanted to be an actor, I knew what I had to do. So I set everything up accordingly. Not everything I did was strictly… legal, but I promise that I did no one any harm and did not interfere too much in other people's lives."

Bradley cocked an eyebrow as understanding settled in.

"Are you telling me," he began haltingly, "That it was _you_ who came up with a Merlin BBC production? And that you wrote the script? And that you casted me as Arthur and yourself as Merlin?"

Colin's smile looked slightly strained but managed to stay in place, "Pretty much?"

"Oh, that's just rich," Bradley snorted, "Leave it to you to name the show after yourself. And to humiliate your king in every which way possible. Really, I'm flattered."

Colin ducked his head, but now that he heard the amusement in Bradley's voice his grin seemed more assured.

"I'll have you know that most of the ridiculous stuff stems purely from the warped sense of humor that the writers come up with," he piqued up, "Or do I have to remind you of the fact that most of the really awful stuff usually happens to me?"

Bradley laughed, "I guess that's true."

"See," Colin sniffed, "So yes, I was involved with the initial steps, getting the approval for the production, working out the basic set-up. The passing of time has done funny things to our own history. I mean, seriously, how did they come up with the idea of my being an ancient, bearded hermit with a pointy hat?"

Bradley's shoulders were rather shaking with mirth when he tried to shrug, "Stereo types."

"Obviously," Colin rolled his eyes, "Anyway, so it seems that the original version hasn't lost any of its charm considering our vast fan community."

Bradley only continued to laugh, "To think that you were really my servant. Still _are,_ actually. Oh, that's brilliant. You could-"

"I will neither perform magic tricks for you nor fetch your clothes and obey your every whim," Colin replied sourly, "I'm not your dog, Bradley. Not to mention what everyone else would say if you suddenly started to treat me like a slave. I wasn't a meek bootlicker back then and I sure as hell won't be one now."

Bradley gave him a full-fledged grin, "And that's why I named you my royal advisor. And my best friend."

That confession turned Colin all humble again as if he hadn't known that before, "So you forgive me? For all the lies and the pretense and the scheming and all that shite?"

With a sigh Bradley nudged his shoulder, "I'd be a downright ass if I refused to acknowledge all you have done for me. There's nothing to forgive. I understand why you had to stay low. Though I'd like to mention that even if you had not saved my life on numerous occasions and enabled my rebirth, even if you were not Merlin but only Colin – you'd still be my best friend. And even time won't change that."

Ah, sap speech. Merlin was rubbing off on him. But it was worth to see such devotion and dedication glistening in Colin's eyes.

"But tell me," he asked, purposefully tugging at Arthur's memories, learning how to control them without completely switching back, "Why did you keep some things like they really happened and changed others? For the series, I mean."

"Yeah, well," Colin said, "That's stupidly obvious actually. I couldn't change too much, afraid that you wouldn't remember if it were too different. Then again I had to make certain that the show would run for a while. For that I needed an interesting plotline with problems that differentiated us from other adaptions of the legends. So while I was really your servant and hid my secret from you, magic was frowned upon but not outlawed. That conflict between Arthur und Merlin and the fear of being caught is what drives the plot. At the same time I knew that the fans would need romance, so I had to turn Lady Guinevere into a serving girl, even though you only met years later at her father's mansion. Same goes for pretty much everything else. A dash of truth and a heap of imagination. I barely interfered with the writers' ideas after the beginning."

"You should have kept closer to the truth," Bradley groaned, "Look at how long it took for the déjà vu to strike. It must've been terrible to always wait and see whether this scene or the next triggered a reaction."

"It was," Colin conceded, "But it was worth it. And this déjà vu was only the catalyst for the final phase. Ever since you were reborn there have been tiny things that reminded you of your old life, from seeing a horse to first hearing about the Arthurian Legend. Having you play Prince Arthur in the show was meant to push you towards those memories, to rub them in. When you identified with your role you grew more comfortable in it. The adaption is meant to be unnoticeable or else it could get dangerous. And even after all that the déjà vu today knocked you out. Can you imagine what would have happened had I directly confronted you with the facts? It's quite possible that you really would have snapped."

Bradley swallowed. Yes, that actually sounded very likely. He actually _had_ thought that he had snapped. Rebirth was obviously a creepy, tedious thing.

But there was still more, still something that he needed to know, something that Merlin had kept from him. Like drawing a silk curtain Bradley let Arthur pass.

Arthur looked a Colin, long and searchingly, as if he could find the answers written on pale skin. Colin shifted uncomfortably, straightened again and then Merlin looked his king in the eye.

"You said you struck a bargain with the Old Ones," Arthur pointed out what had not been explained yet, "But they are wicked and selfish. It must have come to a price."

Merlin stayed silent.

"Merlin," Arthur frowned at him, his voice sharp, "What did you pay? What did my life cost you?"

"It wasn't much of a deal," Merlin claimed, though he looked somewhat chastised, "I kind of… tricked them."

"You tricked the Old Ones?" Arthur gave him a look, "I doubt that's even possible."

"Well, they more or less tricked me in return, so..."

A heavy sigh escaped Arthur as he pinched the bridge of his nose, "Merlin. How many times do I have to remind you of the simple fact that one does not interfere with the dealings of ancient magic? _You_ of all people should know that."

"I had no choice!" Merlin insisted stubbornly, "You were dying and I was a crying mess. I had to act quickly or the essence of your soul would have just evaporated. I had to ask the Old Ones to catch and keep it, otherwise a rebirth would have been impossible. There was no time to waste."

Arthur glared even harder; he was worried about Merlin's stupidity during urgent situations, "So what did you do?"

"I told them that I wanted them to save your life," Merlin told him, "They refused to do so because it went against the laws. I told them that I wanted you to be reborn. _That_ they could do in exchange for what they wanted. Namely potential destiny."

"What does that mean?"

"It means that this life is not meant to be a repetition of your old one," the sorcerer explained hastily, "To me you are still my king but are not allowed to become him. I may not lead you towards your fate like I did before because there is no more grandeur, not in the same manner as in the olden days."

"So," Arthur frowned, wrapping his mind around the matter, "You sold my destiny. But that does not make sense. If I had not been reborn at all, there wouldn't have been any fate."

"That is not how it works, though," Merlin replied and he was staring as his feet as if in shame, "When you were reborn you had the chance to become King Arthur in this world once more. I destroyed that chance. You will forever remain Bradley James, a common man without any grand deeds, without a specific path to follow. A life without definite destiny but… in freedom. I felt that I owed you at least this much. I apologize if I was wrong and have offended your wishes, sire."

It took Arthur a moment to realize why his trusted was behaving so strangely.

"Merlin," he said, laying a reassuring hand on his shoulder, "Without you I would have never become great. And without you I do not wish to become great once more. You granted me a life that I may live only for my own sake, without any rules or obligations. And I am truly grateful for that."

Merlin's smile was white and honest and so much more than Arthur felt he deserved.

Then he remembered something and sobered a little, "You mentioned that the Old Ones tricked you in return though. What did they do?"

Merlin sighed quietly, "They had me wait for fifteen centuries. Fifteen. Can you imagine that? No, you can't, because you were dead. The first hundred years weren't so bad, but after that it just got boring and then I figured out that they would have me squirm a bit and have their fun."

Yes, Arthur could imagine that. Both because the Old Ones were really that twisted and because it was extremely fun to watch Merlin squirm.

But it seemed there was more to it for Merlin continued with his illustration, "I realized, though, that they had valid reasons to postpone your rebirth again and again, saying 'It's not yet time'. Magic is almost extinct in this world, Arthur. It's dying all around us, every single day and I can hear it crying out to me. The Old Ones needed me here. They cannot leave Avalon to cure the earth, to cleanse the water, to purify the air. The balance has been lost. There is so much destruction and little creation. It is painful to watch."

"What does that have to do with you?" Arthur asked, "Is your own magic limited or weakened because of the general lack? Are you endangered?"

"God no," Merlin quickly shook his head, "I'm fine. I'm… possibly stronger than ever before, though I usually don't get the chance to test it around here. I… Arthur, I spend a lot of time on Avalon. A _lot_ of time. The unadulterated magic, the energy, the force, the chakra or whatever you want to call it surged right through me and-"

Bradley burst out laughing, so suddenly and heavily that he had to hold his stomach.

"So what are you trying to tell me, Luke?" he hiccupped between giggles, "That the Force is strong with you?"

"Haha," it was Colin again and he pouted, "If anything you'd be Luke Skywalker."

"Then you are Obi-Wan. And back to being a hermit again."

"Still not funny," Colin pointed out, "May I finish my story now?"

"Your tale finish you now may," Bradley permitted graciously in an awful Yoda-imitation which had Colin stare at him even more funnily.

"Anyway," the younger man said and seemed to concentrate again, "Avalon. Strong magic. Me in the middle of it. I sucked it all up. Or no, that sounds like there is nothing left on Avalon now. It multiplied through my touch and I collected and accumulated in all. It's all inside of me, around me. Sorta. I can't really explain."

He thought for a moment and then nodded to himself, "I believe _that_ is what the Old Ones wanted. I am to serve as some sort of anchor in this world. Magic comes to life wherever I am. It _is_ still alive, Bradley, though few practice it anymore. At least that's what I believe. It's so weak that it's almost impossible to use it. I doubt anyone could really use it without specific knowledge and even then it would be nothing big. So that's what I'm here for. My presence activates the subliminal magic."

Bradley blinked, "So what are you hoping for? Breed an army of mini Harry Potters and prance around on a unicorn? Which you should not do. We have enough fangirls waiting for gay signals."

"Says the one who killed a unicorn," Colin huffed, "Now that's homophobic."

Bradley laughed and cuffed him about the head, "Seriously, though. Why are you doing this?"

"Bradley," Colin looked truly miserable and tortured, "You don't quite understand how it is. There is no one like me. There has never been anyone like me, but back then other magic users where close enough. I was a rarity, but I was not the only one. Now, though, now I am the last of my kind."

Bradley wanted to remain serious, he really wanted to, especially which how wrecked Colin seemed upon that explanation. But Bradley couldn't help it. He started laughing again.

"You are the last one," he chuckled, "The last unicorn. And you've been turned into a beautiful princess who-"

"Falls in love with the dashing prince?" Colin gave him a look and then made a big show of scooting away from him, "What did you say about the gay vibes?"

"Oh, come here, you bloody queer," Bradley teased, threw an arm around Colin's shoulders and pulled him closer again, "You waited hundreds of years. You did all this. Only for me."

He gave a theatrical sob and stared up at the ceiling as if the blink away the non-existent tears, "If anyone ever finds out about this, we'll never be able to lose the gay label. Or the straitjacket and the funnily colored pills we'll be forced to swallow. The joy of incredible curricula vitae. I won't even be able to mention this in my biography. A pity really, but sacrifices have to be made."

At this Colin chuckled, "Glad that we agree on that."

"So you're really gonna do this?" Bradley wanted to know, "You're gonna start something like the renaissance of magic? What if something goes wrong? What if strange beasts show up and attack? What if someone is cursed? What if magic is really outlawed like it was in the middle ages and sorcerers are getting executed. What if _you_ get executed?"

Colin squirmed around uncomfortable, "I know there are so many possibilities this could go wrong. I know that I can barely foresee what might happen once the ball is rolling. Actually I'm pretty sure that someone will get hurt one way or the other. People always get hurt, but not because of being difference but because of other people's intolerance. There's racism and homophobia, animosity because of religions and politics and different genres of music, for Christ's sake. Magic is a minority but it still deserves a chance."

Bradley only grunted in response as h mulled the words over in his head.

"You're going to run for president now or what?" he asked half-jokingly. Colin was not meant for politics, but considering that he had seen the better (or worse) half of civilization it wasn't such a strange idea. No stranger than imagining him taming dragons in the mountains or working as the headmaster of Hogwarts. Which Bradley didn't do. Because he was no geek. … Yeah, okay, he was one, but even frigging King Arthur needed hobbies. Tournaments were very rarely held nowadays.

Colin only shrugged and scratched the back of his head, "No, not president. Prime minister if anything. And that sounds boring. Rather something that allows me to travel wherever I want to go like I've done before when I was waiting for your rebirth. I want to go to Australia and Africa. I believe magic is more vivid there; it's in the earth and in the stars. The stones, at least, must remember something."

Bradley nodded as if he understood, but he could see where Colin's idea was coming from. Ayer's Rock and dreamtime and shamans – why not? Why the hell not? It seemed everything was possible when you had an age-old wizard sitting next to you.

"You'll work something out," he told Colin and Merlin and himself, "You always do."

"Of course I do," Colin replied haughtily, "I sold your destiny, not mine."

But he still looked relieved and reassured and very happy.

"Whatever you do, I'll be with you," Bradley promised him somberly and then amended, "Except when you plan to follow the fangirls' wishes and make me kiss you for the show. There have to be boundaries, mate."

Colin was snickering into his fist and glanced at Bradley through slit eyes, "You are aware of the fact that I am the most powerful sorcerer in the world?"

"That doesn't mean much if you are the only sorcerer in the world," Bradley reminded him.

"I could still force you to do whatever I wish," Colin pointed out and raised a hand to wiggle his fingers in a ridiculous imitation of an evil witch, "So you better be careful before I turn you into a toad. Or even better yet: into my very own man servant. I feel like we ought to reverse roles in this life, Bradley, don't you think?"

Bradley only gave an exaggerated squeak, jumped up from the bed and bolted straight for the door to leave the trailer, knowing that Colin would follow him.

He didn't get far, though, before he came across an obstacle, namely Katie and Angel who were looking at him with wide eyes.

"Aren't you supposed to be dying or something?" Katie asked with a frown and eyed him suspiciously.

It was that moment Colin chose to crash straight into Bradley's back, sending him toppling forward. He flailed his arms and tried to hold on to the girls who only stepped aside in opposite directions so that he landed on the ground with Colin comfortably sitting on top of him.

"Whoops," was Colin's only comment as he straightened himself but didn't even offer Bradley a hand up from where he lay sprawled in the grass.

Arthur turned onto his back and glared up at him, "May I remind you of the fact that you swore an oath to protect you king? Worthless peasant?"

Blue eyes merrily twinkled back, "Whenever was that, my king?"

"Fifteen minutes ago," he reminded him, "Fifteen centuries ago."

"Must have forgotten that," Merlin mused, "Getting rather senile on my old days."

The girls' giggles suddenly pulled them back into the present and Bradley felt somewhat startled, chiding himself for being so careless and letting those words slip. Katie and Angel might take it for a joke and laugh about their antics; heck, Katie and Angel might even believe them the whole rebirth story (after Colin demonstrated some real magic, because after all those pranks no one trusted Bradley, for some strange reason), but he couldn't afford to lose control like this.

Merely a few hours after his big déjà vu he was already accustomed to the thought, the feeling of partly being Arthur, but he had to be careful in front of other people. After all Merlin had never slipped, or at least Bradley had never noticed. He had to learn to be just as inconspicuous.

He scrambled back onto his feet again and dusted his breeches off. He was still wearing his costume, he noticed. Which explained Katie's question from before. No one had seen him since he had passed out. They must've been worried after all and Angel and Kathy had wanted to visit him. How sweet. Considering that he was well again, though, he would only get nasty comments about how he had fainted like a girl and that they had it all on camera. Wonderful. He loved his friends. At least Katie was still nicer than the real Morgana. Sometimes.

"So you're all right again?" Angel asked with a bright smile. Sometimes Angel tried to be nicer than Morgana, too. She rarely succeeded.

"I'm all right," Bradley answered truthfully. He still was a bit shaky on his legs, especially after that ungraceful tumble just now, but other than that he felt healthy and alive and surprisingly sane. He was King Arthur after all.

He exchanged a quick, but meaningful glance with Colin who grinned back at him, and the grin was Merlin and the dimples were Merlin and the eyes were Merlin as well, but he was still Colin somehow, just like he was Arthur and it was good like that.

"In fact," he added, placing his hands on his hips and squaring his shoulders in a kingly fashion, "I've never felt better."

For all he cared destiny could go to hell.

**~o0o~**

 

 

 


	2. Fairy Circle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "This is so spooky," Katie crooned, "And ridiculous. I feel like a ninja."
> 
> "Yes, only that we don't do martial arts and aren't about to assassinate someone," Angel responded.
> 
> "Oh, I don't know," Katie teased, "Depending on what those two are up to it might still end in me strangling them. Or at least Bradley."
> 
> Angel and Katie are well-aware of the fact that Colin and Bradley are keeping some sort of secret. Now they are about to find out what it is.

Fairy Circle

The ceiling of her hotel room was white and bleak and uninteresting, much like the pages that were sprinkled with tiny black letters, so Angel kept glancing up and down, unable to focus her attention on anything at all, her thoughts a thick fog stagnating inside of her skull.

Dull, she chanted absent-mindedly. Dull, dull, dull.

Suddenly there was a sharp knock on the door and with a sigh of relief Angel snapped her book shut. It wasn't that the novel was boring, but... well, Angel was still bored. The type of boredom that made it impossible to find something exciting on her own, whether it be watching Youtube videos or knitting a jumper. Both of which Angel had tried during severe phases of ennui and which had proved rather fruitless.

So the unexpected visitor was a welcome distraction.

"Coming!" she yelled and jumped up from her bed, scrambling across the room, gripping the handle and jerking the door open with an exalted grin.

Katie's slightly flabbergasted face greeted her.

"Er... hi?" the dark-haired woman said hesitantly, carefully looking Angel up and down in a scrumptious manner as if she might combust spontaneously.

"Sorry," Angel's sudden burst of adrenaline made her giggle, "Just... happy to see you."

"Right," the exhilaration seemed to be contagious because an answering smile now tugged at the corners of Katie's lips, "I was just wondering whether you'd like to go out for a walk or something. I'm rather-"

"Bored, yes. Me, too," Angel nodded hastily, "Let me just get dressed and we can be off."

Angel turned around and rushed back into the room, grabbing her favourite ratty sweatshirt, and pulling it over her head while simultaneously trying to slip into her trainers. The sight of that made Katie laugh out loud, too.

"That bad?" she asked with compassion and Angel's head, half-stuck in the collar, nodded fervently.

"You have no idea," she replied, still wrestling with the sweatshirt, "I thought I was going crazy here."

"Same here," Katie admitted, "Well, almost. I thought before I let it come that far, I might as well bugger you for a while."

"Don't worry, I don' feel buggered," Angel laughed, crouching down to tie her shoe laces, "In fact I probably would have come over to you if this had gone on for any longer. Seriously, I was already hoping that Bradley would come up with another prank, just so that something might actually happen."

"Yeah, about that," Katie looked uncomfortable for a moment, "I was wondering whether we should ask the boys to come along. You know, spend some quality time with each other."

That remark made Angel look up sharply, but then she firmly stared back down at her shoe and tied the laces with utmost care.

"Yes," she answered, her voice sounding somewhat hollow, "That would be nice."

Together they left Angel's room and marched down the corridor to where Bradley's room was located.

"I heard them laughing in there before," Katie explained as to why they went to Bradley's room first instead of checking Colin's, and Angel had to bite her tongue to keep herself from saying something bitter. She imagined that she saw Katie faltering for a split second as she raised her hand to loudly rap her knuckles against the wood. The muted voices behind the door ceased immediately.

"Just a second!" Bradley called from the inside, but that was a lie for they had to wait at least thirty seconds before he finally pulled the door open and looked at them as if he had never seen them before.

"Yes?" he asked, tilting his head to the side, leaning against the threshold, one hand on the door itself so they couldn't push it open. Angel stood up a little straighter and tried to peer over Bradley's shoulder where she could see Colin sitting on the bed.

"Hi," Katie said with a tight smile, "I was - well, _we_ were wondering... It's such a nice night outside, so Angel and I wanted to go for a walk and we thought that you might like to accompany us."

Angel nodded in agreement, putting on a brave smile of her own. For a moment Bradley seemed totally caught off guard.

"Oh," he said in surprise, and again, "Oh."

He twisted his head back to look at Colin and both girls could tell that there was some profound eye contact conversation going on.

"Well, thanks for the offer," Bradley said when he turned back and that was already enough of a declination, "But Colin and I were kinda busy, so..."

He trailed off and Angel tried not to sound too hurt. "Oh?" she asked, in a strangely high voice, "What are you doing?"

"Just..." Bradley rubbed his knuckles across the tip of his nose, "Running lines and improvising and stuff."

"That's cool," Katie said quickly, taking hold of Angel's upper arm, "Well, we'll be off then. You two have fun. See you tomorrow."

And with that she pulled Angel away from the door which closed only a second later, without any parting words from Bradley and no input at all from Colin.

Together the two girls wandered down the stairs instead of choosing the elevator, both of them clinging to the empty silence that hung between them as they walked through the hotel's foyer, their steps echoing in the small hall.

It was only when they set foot outside of the building that it all burst free.

"What the hell is wrong with them?" Angel ground out angrily, just as Katie said, "I just don't get it!"

"It's not like we have done anything to offend-"

"They're acting as if-"

"And just last week-"

"Have you seen how-"

"You'd think they-

"I thought we were their-"

For a few moments they kept on rambling like that, barely even registering what the other said, but well aware that they shared the same sentiment.

"Why do men have to be so damn complicated?" they snapped in unison, looked at each other and then dissolved into helpless laughter.

"So you noticed, too," Angel remarked and Katie gave her a pointed look, "Of course I've noticed. I'm not blind."

"Then what should we do about it?"

Katie shrugged her thin shoulders, "I don't know. Come, let's walk for a bit. It helps me think. And it's a beautiful night after all."

It really was a beautiful night, but the velvety darkness and the full moon did little to alleviate their worries.

Side by side they walked along the clear path that led away from the hotel and the road, and after only a few steps Katie hooked her arm over Angel's, both grateful for the company.

It had started a few weeks back, Angel supposed. All of a sudden Colin and Bradley had started to withdraw. They had always spent a lot of time with each other, but not _all_ of their time, and they had never minded the girls' presence - or anyone else's for that matter.

Now they were both very polite and rather reserved when someone else approached, their excited chatter silencing at once whenever they felt that someone was listening in on them, but putting their heads back together the moment they were left alone, exchanging hushed whispers and stifled giggles.

And sometimes they got this glazed look in their eyes, as if they were gazing into another world altogether, as if they could see things that no one else could.

Colin had had them before, every now and then, moments in which he would fall silent, blind to his surroundings, but that that been no surprise and only fitting his rather pensive nature. Now, though, it seemed that it had infected Bradley, that he, too, got overcome by a wave of thoughts and emotions that dragged him down into the abyss of a dark, dark sea.

It was fascinating to watch, that faraway expression on their faces, their bodies completely still, though in different ways, Bradley rigid and poised like a statue cut out of marble, Colin moonily and agravic like a sprite perched on the top of an old tree, enchanted by the starlight.

But it was Bradley who had changed the most, Bradley who seemed out of reach in those moments. Colin could be pulled out of his thoughts with a with only a word, a touch, usually surfaced all on his own after a while, while Bradley would snap out of it in a startled manner like a sleepwalker forcefully waking from his dream.

Angel had learned not to get close to him in those moments, not to shake him out of his trance; it wasn't that he got angry or even accidentally violent, but to see that look in his eyes, pupils first blown wide like in a drug-induced state and then suddenly constricting till they were only two tiny dots of black amidst the unnaturally clear blue of his irises. Angel had seen it up close three times and by now she could no longer wave it off as a fluke. It scared her in a way that left her breathless, like all the air being knocked out of her after being thrown off a horse.

It affected their interaction, their friendship, their trust for she kept expecting that something bad was going to happen, that something was about to explode. It figured that when the boys were sticking together the girls would have to cling to each other in reaction, a life-line, a constant so they wouldn't get swept away in the tide.

Up till this evening there had been this silence bearing down on them, though; this reluctance to speak about their fear that sounded so unreasonable when voiced out loud.

But it seemed that this had been the final draw. Katie and Angel were both so fed up that it all just spilled out of their mouths, liberating and reassuring that they had a companion, a confidant who knew how they felt.

From what Angel could tell their work had not been negatively influenced by those strange developments. If anything some of the scenes seemed more convincing. Merlin's and Arthur's friendship was striving, Arthur growing in his role as the heir, Gwen worrying over him, unsure of how to behave, Morgana pale-faced and hollow-eyed, suspiciously watching every move the boys made.

Then there were the fight scenes. The scenes in which Bradley danced across the battle field as if he had never done anything else, self-assured and beautiful and brutal. He fought with a vigor that had broken a stuntman's rib when Bradley' aluminum sword hit him with full force.

Angel hadn't been on set, but Rupert had and he had told her all about it afterwards, had relayed how Bradley hadn't even been aware of how viciously he had been battling his opponents until the wounded man's pain-filled yell had made him jerk back in shock. He had apologized with bloodless lips and downcast eyes, had bowed and bowed and begged for forgiveness until Colin had touched a steady hand to his shoulder and drawn him away so the stuntman could be taken care of by the paramedics.

That was probably the most obvious of Bradley's strange displays, but it could still be written off as an accident, as a rush of adrenaline. There were other times, however, like last week as they had been preparing for a romantic scene between Arthur and Gwen, when Bradley seemed to forget that they were all acting.

He had grabbed Angel by the shoulders and given her such a bruising kiss that she had yelped in surprise and pushed against his chest; it had taken him a moment to react and when he finally let go he was shame-faced and contrite and angry at himself.

But what was the cause for all that, when had it started, why had it stared at all and how could they make things go back to the way they were before?

Angel was at a loss and she hated how she felt so helpless, so stupid in the face of two of her friends behaving so maddeningly lunatic.

"It started when Bradley passed out during that fight scene," Katie said suddenly and Angel snapped her eyes at her, feeling slightly light-headed and realizing with dread that this was possibly a similar reaction to what the boys did. Maybe it was really catching.

"You know, that fight scene," Katie clarified when Angel failed to say something, "The one when he suddenly fainted without an obvious reason and everyone was worried. We went to visit him in the medical trailer, but Bradley was already up and about with Colin following him. That was about five weeks ago. I think it started then."

Katie fell silent once more and together they walked along the path, gravel crunching beneath their soles, both of them contemplating this new revelation.

Angel let her gaze sweep over the outskirts of the forest, the dark trees that reached up into the blue-black sky, the white orb of the moon hidden behind a few branches.

"You think... you think something's the matter with Bradley?" she asked with hesitation, "And... maybe he only told Colin, so that's why-"

Katie's laughter was loud and shrill and somewhat hysteric amidst the quiet that surrounded them.

"Like an illness, you mean?" she said and Angel could feel the muscles in her arm tightening against hers, "He's diagnosed with something and Colin knows and so they always huddle together and seem so thoughtful?"

"Yeah," Angel said faintly, trying to think of any diseases that made people pass out randomly or after bodily exertion. But Bradley's health had seemed fine after that one time. He didn't change his diet, he didn't seem to be taking any medicine, he was strong and youthful, showing no anxiety over suddenly dropping dead.

"I don't think so," Katie mused, "I mean, maybe Colin would keep such a secret if he were asked, but he would never risk Bradley's well-being in doing so. No, I can't imagine that. I think that day was when it all started, but that's only a small part of it. There has to be more."

So Angel thought about that day, how she and Katie had went to the medical trailer in which Bradley was supposed to be resting, and how suddenly Bradley had come running towards them, Colin hot on his heels and crashing right into the older man when he had stopped.

They had both seemed so carefree back then, so wild and joyous. Remembering that, Angel just could not believe that something terrible had happened that day. No, Katie was right, there had to be something else.

"Oh," she said as a surprising thought occurred to her, "Colin was sitting on Bradley's bed."

This time it took Katie a moment to let that statement sink it, but when it did the laughter that followed was at least sincere and bright and real.

"Oh please," she huffed, doubling over and holding her stomach, "You think they are shagging?"

Angel shrugged, feeling slightly put off, "It would explain a couple of things."

"Yeah, but-" Katie laughed again, "Seriously. I think we would have noticed _that._ Not to mention that they were always close. Colin sitting on Bradley's bed is no indication for anything like that."

"But they're always together," Angel insisted, "And Bradley took so long to open the door. And they spend all of their time together, but when they are alone they stare off into the distance. Haven't you seen the way they look at each other?"

"Oh, come on," Katie was rolling her eyes but still giggling, "If I didn't know better I'd say you're a fan girl. No, I agree that they are hiding something, but it's not a relationship. Not to mention that I'd like to think they wouldn't keep it from us."

"Maybe they are worried that it seems unprofessional," Angel mused, "Maybe they are still working it out. Maybe Colin only got the guts to admit his feeling when he saw how Bradley fainted."

Katie gave her a sharp, side-long glance.

"Seriously," she said, something between amusement and worry in her voice, "You have put much thought into this."

"I just see no other explanation!" Angel huffed, exasperated, "It just doesn't add up. We're missing some detail and I have no idea how to solve this problem. Because it _is_ a problem. I don't mind that they are all chummy; I don't mind that they are keeping secrets; I don't even mind those freakish black-outs they get. But I hate how they are pushing us away. I love them both and this is driving me crazy!"

"Same here," Katie sighed, suddenly sounding defeated, "But I'm happy that you think the same. I was afraid that I was the only one. But yesterday I was talking to Tony and he said he had met Bradley in the foyer and said hi and Bradley only stared at him and walked away. That's... that's... I don't even know."

"Did you notice how he didn't seem to recognize us either when he opened the door?" Angel pointed out, "As if we were strangers."

Her thoughts flickered back to her previous idea of Bradley's being ill and she felt bile rising in her throat.

"Maybe it's a tumor," she said, her voice raspy, "Or some mental disorder."

But Katie shook her head, "I know what it seems like. But it's not only Bradley. Colin is doing strange things as well. I found him sitting in a tree just the other day."

Angel blinked, "What?"

"He was sitting in a tree," Katie repeated, "And he was holding a stone in his hand."

"A stone," Angel said weakly. Her head was beginning to hurt.

"Not just any stone," Katie amended, "A gem. An amethyst. And a rather big one as that. He held it up into the sunlight that fell through the leaves. It worked a bit like a prism, you know, and there were a dozen of tiny rainbows strewn about. When I asked him what he was doing, he startled and nearly fell down, but then laughed and said that he simply thought it looked pretty."

Angel's mouth felt dry. "So, two of our closest friends have gone nuts?" she said, "Great. Do you want to call the doctors from the madhouse or shall I?"

Katie was shuffling uncomfortably, "I doubt it's that easy."

"Easy?" Angel forced a laugh, "I wish I could call it that."

"We could..." Katie seemed to be looking for words, "We could just talk to them. If we show them how anxious we are, they'll surely explain themselves."

"But that's the thing, isn't it!" Angel exclaimed in frustration, "They aren't themselves."

"Now you are exaggerating," Katie said with pursed lips, "It's not like they've completely changed."

"They've been abducted by aliens," Angel decided, "And brain-washed. Or they knocked their heads and swapped personalities and now they try to act like the other but spectacularly fail. Or they've been enchanted."

"Now, that's more like it," Katie smiled, kicking a pebble away, "Some evil fairy is trying to... well, you know, do something evil and hypnotized them with... evil... stuff."

"Right," Angel grinned, "And Bradley is really a prince."

"And Colin a wizard."

"Colin being a wizard might at least be an explanation for his sitting in trees," Angel sighed dramatically, "But I'm afraid Bradley doesn't act all that princely."

"More like a spoilt princess," Katie agreed but then sobered, "Well, before the change, at least."

"Isn't that insane?" Angel wondered, the empty feeling in her chest spreading again, "That we are already thinking of it as _before_ and _after_. As if something terrible had happened."

Katie shrugged, "I can't help it. If it weren't so drastic we probably wouldn't be wasting much thought on the matter, now would we?"

"True," Angel admitted meekly and stared down at her feet.

They had taken the path that led them right back to the hotel in a loop and the white-washed building lay in front of them again, the illuminated windows like unblinking eyes, bright and square and always watching. Behind one of those windows Bradley and Colin were doing whatever they had done for the past five weeks, whatever separated them from the rest of the world in such a peculiar way that they didn't deem their supposed friends worthy of sharing it.

It was a lonely thought, a devastating thought and maybe Katie was thinking the same for her small, cold hand slipped into Angel's and held on tight, their shoulders brushing in a soothing manner as they made their way back to the hotel.

Their spontaneous walk had had a somehow calming effect on Angel's mind and had certainly got rid of her boredom, too, but she could still only focus on the fact that they weren't able to come up with a solution, that they were only sharing their misery and not eradicating it.

"Hurry up, you idiot!" a hushed voice called from further ahead where the path disappeared behind a couple of bushed and both girls perked up before looking at each other and stopping dead in their tracks. That had definitely been Bradley. So the idiot was most likely-

"Colin!" Bradley called again, "We don't have all day. Night. Whatever. Get moving!"

"Maybe if you would help me carry this junk-" Colin complained and Bradley snorted in response.

"Junk?" he repeated haughtily, "You said that we needed all of that. We spent over fifty quid on all that so-called junk."

"I know," Colin grunted, "But that doesn't mean I have to enjoy carrying around a bag full of stones."

"Poor Colin," Angel whispered out of reflex but Katie shushed her by squeezing her hand in warning.

It was only then that Angel realized how odd this whole situation was. They had asked Colin and Bradley whether they wanted to go for a walk, but the boys had declined because they were 'busy', and now Angel and Katie were practically spying on them while they did what would seem like a walk if it weren't for the fact that Colin was obviously dragging around a bag full of stones.

Maybe they were really going insane.

"Alright," Bradley gave in, "If you aren't strong enough-"

"To hell with it, I _am_ strong enough!" Colin hissed, "But you'll be carrying it on the way back. I might be exhausted afterwards."

"You're never exhausted afterwards," Bradley pointed out, "You would keep going for hours if I let you."

"And you should be grateful for that," Colin answered, "Anyone else would-"

"May I remind you of the fact that there is no one like you?"

"Oh, you know what I mean. Now keep your trap shut and focus on the path. It wouldn't do for us to get lost now."

"Like we'd get lost," Bradley tutted, "As long as the tree didn't suddenly decide to move-"  
"It's happened before," Colin reminded him.

"Yes, but the only one who's able to do that would be you," Bradley added, "So as long as you didn't misplace the tree-"

"I haven't misplaced a tree since the early seventh century," Colin scoffed and Bradley laughed, "Probably because you had no reason to move a tree at all."

Katie and Angel glanced at each other. That conversation sounded so weird that the explanation of their friend being mentally disturbed sounded more and more likely.

But in that moment Bradley emerged from behind the bushes that had blocked the girls from his sight, Colin close behind him, and Angel realized that this was their chance.

"Hi there," she said sweetly, hoping to sound more or less normal, "Going for a walk after all?"

Bradley looked came to a sudden halt, staring at them with a blank expression.

"Yes," he said awkwardly, "Needed some air after all that work."

"Bradley's room stinks," Colin added helpfully from behind, "He's got unwashed underwear strewn all over the place. It's disgusting."

"Yes, thanks for your input, you imbecile," Bradley swatted at him with his right hand, "You may shut up now."

"Do you mind if we come along?" Katie asked suddenly and this time it was Angel who warningly tightened her grasp around her hand, already anticipating the nervous look that immediately spread on the boys' faces, though the dark hid most of it.

"Actually," she said quickly, gently tugging on Katie's arm, "It was getting rather cold out here. I was thinking about going back to my room and maybe drinking a cuppa? Of course you can join us later if you want to."

That invitation had Bradley put on another apologetic smile, "Well, I don't know. It's already rather late. You two've been out here for almost an hour. We'll probably be hitting the sack the moment we get back."

"Oh well," Angel said with a careless shrug, "Next time perhaps. Come on then, Katie. You two have fun, boys, and see you tomorrow."

"Yea, see you," Colin smiled at them as they passed by him, hands clenched around the strap of the shoulder bag he was carrying.

"What are you doing?" Katie hissed the moment they were behind the bushes and both out of sight and out of earshot, "We could've-"

"Do you really think they would've just taken us along?" Angel asked, pulling her friend further down the path to get away from the boys, "This might be the only opportunity. They think we'll be going back to the hotel. But instead we'll follow them and see what they are doing. That way we might find out what's wrong with them. We won't have to ask them, they won't have to answer. We'll only watch."

"Oooh", Katie said in realization, "I like when you are being sneaky."

"Thank you," Angel replied, "Now, we'll wait for a few moments and then follow them. They said something about a tree. Do you think they'll go into the forest?"

"Possible", Katie said, "Maybe they'll do some more climbing. Colin seems to be rather fond of that. Though I think it's a stupid idea to do so at night when you can barely see a thing."

"Who knows," Angel mused, "Last time he was catching sunlight. Maybe he'll try to catch moonlight tonight. Right about now I wouldn't be surprised if they climbed trees only to let those stones fall down."

The mental image of two grown men sitting in a tree and simply dropping some bricks was enough to get both girls giggling again.

"Now," Angel said, glancing over her shoulder, "I think we can turn around again. But we have to be silent and stay behind so they won't notice us. It's already quite dark but we should stay in the shadows."

"This is so spooky," Katie crooned, "And ridiculous. I feel like a ninja."

"Yes, only that we don't do martial arts and aren't about to assassinate someone," Angel responded.

"Oh, I don't know," Katie teased, "Depending on what those two are up to it might still end in me strangling them. Or at least Bradley."

"I don't think it's a prank," Angel said, "This has been going on for too long. Bradley has the attention span of a goldfish and the brain of a cockroach."

"The brain of a cockroach is spread throughout its entire body," Katie told her in a matter of fact-voice, "So when you cut off its head it only dies after a week because of starvation."

Angel faltered. "That's creepy," she said, "Why do you know that?"

"Biology class."

"Right. So no cutting off Bradley's head. We'll do it the old-fashioned way then. Hit 'em with a shoe."

"You think Colin deserved being hit, too?"

"Probably," Angel answered, "Bradley most likely dragged him into this, but he's old enough to decide for himself."

"So you _do_ think it's a prank after all?"

"To be honest, I wish it were," Angel sighed wistfully, "I wish I could walk into my room to have a bucket of paint fall down on me. I wish they are trying to find this tree to dress it up as something scary. I wish those stones were pebbles that they plan to throw at my window all night long, just to annoy me. But I'm pretty sure that's not the case."

"Yeah," Katie sighed as well, "Bradley isn't creative enough for that."

"Exactly."

Together they walked through the shadows, the dark silhouettes of the boys far ahead, and despite the fact that there was no actual danger involved in this secret mission Angel could feel her heart hammering wildly against the inside of her ribcage, making her ears and neck grow hot.

It really felt as if they were the ones doing something strange, something forbidden and with a wry smile Angel noted how both of them were walking on tiptoes and bending their back to appear smaller. It was all instinct and rather ridiculous if you thought of it, like two naughty girls planning to steal from the cookie jar.

"Shit," Katie cursed lowly, "I can't see them anymore."

Angel craned her neck, seeing the path deserted, "They're really going into the forest."

"We can't lose them now," Katie grabbed her hand again and urgently tugged at it, "Hurry or we won't find them again."

As quietly as possibly they sprinted up to where they had last seen the boys, a stretch of the path that was closest to the looming forest.

"We don't have a torch," Angel realized with annoyance, "Either we'll break our legs or we won't be able to see what they are doing."

"Relax," Katie shushed her, "They probably brought one. You heard what they said – they spent fifty quid on stones. You'd think they'd be smart enough to bring a flashlight."

Angel frowned, "You are aware of the fact that we are talking about Colin and Bradley here, right? They're… you know, male and all that. Not exactly predestined for being clever."

Katie snorted, "Point taken. Now c'mon. And pay attention to where we are going. Because I really don't want to get lost in an unknown forest last at night."

So they entered the wood and after a little bit of shuffling about they found a slim dirt track curling through the underbrush which showed sign of recent use. The boys had probably used this path more than once, especially when counting in their strange conversation from before. This wasn't just a spontaneous trip into the wood. They had planned this for a while now and Angel was annoyed with her, angry that she hadn't acted before this had gotten out of hand. It might've saved them a lot of trouble.

Since the trail was so narrow that one had to put one foot directly in front of the other, they couldn't walk side by side and although Angel missed the comfort of Katie's touch, she was glad that he friend was leading the way.

"I think I can hear them," Katie whispered, "And I think they really brought a flash light; I can see it glowing even from here. We have to be quiet or they'll catch us."

The thought of being caught in the act shouldn't have unsettled Angel this much. They weren't doing anything illegal. And even if the boys were annoyed at being followed, the girls could still write this still off as pure curiosity, as payback for all previous pranks.

It wasn't that Angel was scared of Bradley and Colin and their potential anger. It was that she was scared for them. If she and Katie found out what was wrong they might be able to help. But if their mission failed, then they failed their friends as well.

Stupid, Angel chided herself. They were talking about stones and tress and a secret hike at night. This was Bradley James who was basically a twelve years-old boy in the body of a grown up. It wasn't as if the two were about to bury a corpse. … Were they?

The overall quiet surrounding them made Angel hyper-aware of the sound of her breathing, of her unsteady steps in the dark. There were the usual noises one would expect in a forest; the wind and the rustling of leaves, the slightly eerie hoot of some sort of owl, even the keening yip of a fox, and Angel hoped that they wouldn't come across some miffed boars.

But Katie was right; somewhere up ahead there was the sound of voices talking. She couldn't discern what was being said, but that were definitely Colin and Bradley, which Angel found rather reassuring. She wasn't sure how she would have reacted to suddenly coming across a bunch of other people meandering through the dark forest.

Another – admittedly rather far-fetched – idea came to her mind. Maybe the boys were part of some weird cult. Cults usually included a lot of strange behavior, right? That would explain why they spent less and less time with anyone else and why they wasted money on stones of all things. Colin had said something about being exhausted afterwards. Angel's breath hitched. Was he going to offer his blood in some occult ceremony?

No. That was absolutely ridiculous. Her worry was clouding her mind. And letting her imagination run wild.

No, they were so close now to revealing the secret. She only had to be patient and then she could start thinking about it. Making up crazy stuff was only going to confuse her further.

"Careful, branch ahead," Katie – who was walking with her hand stretched out in front of her – warned her and then ducked, Angel doing the same before letting out an agitated gush of breath.

She wasn't exactly afraid of the forest or the shadows, but walking in the dark without knowing exactly where to they were walking was doing strange things to her head. She had absolutely no idea how long it had been since they had left the hotel, since they had entered the forest, and with a start she noticed that she hadn't paid much attention to any landmarks either. Well, there was the low branch and the trail itself, but that wasn't much to go on. Nervously she slipped her hand into her pocket, biting her lower lip when she remembered that she hadn't taken her cellphone along. So she could neither check the time nor use the display as a tiny torch, and if something went wrong she wouldn't even be able to call for help.

"Katie," she whispered urgently, "Katie, did you bring-"

"Shh!" Katie hissed in front of her, "There's a meadow. I think they stopped."

Angel's heart fluttered. So that was it. They were about to witness what Colin and Bradley were up to.

'Please let it be a prank', she prayed inwardly, 'Let it all be a stupid prank so I can laugh about it.'

They walked a few more meters and then Katie crouched down behind a bush, motioning Angel to do the same. It was uncomfortable and smelled of rotten leaves and Angel hugging her knees close to herself, her body being wrecked by shivers of cold and of nervousness.

Forcefully she clenched her jaw, hoping to keep her teeth from clattering. A glance to the side told her that Katie was watching with rapt attention, half of her face covered in shadows, her lips tight and her brow furrowed.

"Look," she mouthed more than said and Angel couldn't help but face forward again, peering through the sparse foliage of the bush.

She could see Bradley standing in small meadow, hands on his hips, his back to them and obviously unaware of the curious eyes. He was looking at- Angel scooted to the left – at Colin, kneeling on the ground in a patch of grass and moss and fallen leaves.

There was an old, majestic oak in the middle of the meadow, its trunk stout and broad, the gnarls of the root as big as Angel's head.

Colin was sitting in the stream of moonlight that fell onto the clearing and although his back was turned, too, Angel could see that his skin was almost glowing, white and ethereal, and she remembered comparing him to a sprite. Never had it been truer before.

"Have you seen my pendants?" Colin asked while rummaging through the bag he had brought.

"The amber one is already dangling from your neck," Bradley told him with slight amusement in his voice, "And heeere… is the garnet amulet."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a chain to which a deep-red stone was fastened; then he stepped forward and slipped it over Colin's head.

"Thanks," Colin said, "Do you have yours as well?"

Bradley scoffed, "No, Colin, I brought your pendants and left mine back at the hotel. – Of course, I've got mine!"

He tugged at the chains around his neck, "Though they do make me feel like a girl. I'm not overly fond of so much jewelry."

"You never minded your crown," Colin pointed and Bradley huffed, "Because I'm the king."

So, they were still teasing each other and making fun of their roles, Angel noted with some relief. That was a good sign, wasn't it?

"Well then, my king, how about you place the opals between the mushrooms while I draw up the runes," Colin proposed, getting up from the ground and walking closer to the oak, running a hand over the rough bark.

Angel could see that there were thin plumes of smoke rising from where he had kneeled before and then she noticed a round plate or something similar on which herbs and flowers were burning like incense.

Bradley had grabbed the bag and pulled out a smooth, gleaming stone, running the tip of his thumb over it before he bent down and placed it on the forest floor, between the white mushrooms, just like Colin had told him. Then he took a big, carefully measured step, took another opal and set it down as well. This he repeated a couple of times, vanishing behind the oak and emerging again, until he was back at his starting point.

With some surprise Angel realized that the mushrooms were growing round the tree in an almost perfect circle. She had heard of that before, had once seen it in a book, but could not recall what it was called.

"Angel," Katie whispered breathlessly, as if reading her thoughts, "That's a fairy circle."

Then – as though she believed in such things – she added, "It's magic."

"Finished?" Colin asked in that moment and Bradley laughed cheekily, "Only waiting for you, my friend."

"I'm ready," Colin answered, stepping back to observe his work. With what was obviously a piece of chalk he had drawn a number of small symbols onto the bark of the tree.

Runes like Ancient Runes, like those even Hermione Granger had antagonized over, and then Angel had to press her hands over her lips because incense and runes and esoteric gems and fairy circle, that only ended up to three possible options.

a) Colin and Bradley were really absolutely bananas. b) Colin and Bradley were really practicing some dark cult which was basically the same as a). Or c) … Angel didn't even dare to voice it in her thoughts.

She didn't believe in that sort of thing. She didn't. She enjoyed fantasy novels and little magic tricks, but she didn't actually believe that-

A tiny whimper escaped her and Katie nudged her sharply, but the boys didn't seem to have noticed. Instead Colin only waved Bradley closer so they were both standing inside of the circle.

Colin took a deep, steadying breath, his narrow shoulders lifting, and then he sent his friend a challenging glance, "Shall we?"

Bradley barked out a short laugh, "I don't know about you, but I didn't prepare all this stuff to just walk back home again. Remember, fifty quid for stupid stones. You better give me a good show, otherwise I want my money back."

"Oh, I believe it'll be worth your while," Colin said and then he placed one hand against the tree trunk, the other spread wide towards the ground, while Bradley's right hand touched the oak as well, his left settling on Colin's shoulder and squeezing reassuringly, the two of them facing each other.

And then it began.

Colin started murmuring strange words in a husky tone, incoherent not because he was talking too quietly, but because it was a language Angel didn't recognize. A few seconds later, though, she _did_ recognize it, for it sounded suspiciously like the many spells that were used in the series.

Next to her Katie grew rigid, confirming that this was actually Old English, and Katie would know as she had quite a few parts in which Morgana had to use it.

It was all gibberish to Angel, but it was possible that Katie knew some of the words, that she even remembered the meaning.

Was Colin just reciting some of his lines? Or did he actually… did he actually know what he was doing?

And then something else happened. Angel was glad that her hands were still in front of her mouth or she would have gasped out loud.

There were lights. Tiny lights appearing out of nowhere, bright yellow and moving around, unlike the pale and steady moonshine.

They rose from the ground and sunk from the oak's greenery, floating, floating, flickering from side to side in an almost playful manner, settling down on the boy's hair, their faces, their shoulders, until both of them were practically glowing. Like two ikons surrounded by a nimbus, holy and sacred and not from this world.

The whole meadow was alight with this unearthly fire, as if it was the break of day, and Angel watched and watched and couldn't get enough.

After a while Colin's murmurs ceased and both he and Bradley looked up.

"Not bad," Bradley admitted with a crooked grin, "Not bad at all."

And Colin laughed. A carefree, clear sound like waking song birds in the morning and then he threw his hands up in the air and jumped, and Bradley whooped and pumped a fist, letting out a yell of victory, and just like that the lights started rushing all around them, moving, moving like a maelstrom, quicker and quicker, and Colin lifted his hands and the lights glided through his spread fingers like golden currents of water.

And Angel thought how beautiful it was, how terrifyingly beautiful.

"It's working!" Colin declared in boundless joy, "It's actually working!"

"I can't believe it," Bradley said and in what was obviously a spontaneous decision he threw his arms around Colin and pulled him close, "We did it. _You_ did it!"

And then they were dancing across the meadow, their feet light and their movements unrestrained and Colin was flailing and Bradley was stomping and when they stepped out of the circle all of the lights stilled for a moment.

Only a second later they raced away from the oak, like a soundless earthquake from its epicenter, and Angel's eyes widened and then clenched shut as she saw the flickers speeding towards her. She felt a prickle upon her skin, a warmth, like sensation returning into a numb limb, and when she dared to open her lids again the meadow was cool and moonlit once more, though Bradley and Colin were still dancing their triumphant dance.

Angel felt a hand on her wrist and –boneless as she was – she let herself be pulled to her feet by Katie who seemed in a hurry to get away.

They moved carefully at first, still wary that they would be heard, but the farther they left the clearing behind, the quicker and less careful Katie was, her steps loud and crashing through the underbrush, so Angel followed her, fueled by adrenaline, running, just running, and again thankful that Katie was in front of her or she would have run straight into the low branch. They kept this up this speed and it felt good for concentrating on her feet and her lungs distracted Angel from what she had seen, from thinking about it, so she ran and stumbled and felt the air rushing in and out of her throat, her mouth, her nose.

Finally they could see the edge of the wood in front of them and with one last jump they leapt back onto the gravel path that had led them here.

Never in her whole life had Angel run like that, not even for the series when she was supposed to be running for her life. Her chest and her sides hurt and she knew that after such a sprint one was supposed to keep walking for a while, but for a minute or so she and Katie just stood there, breathing heavily, not looking at each other.

Katie had her palms on her knees, slightly bent forward, panting and staring at the ground, while the heels of Angel's palms were pressing into her sides, her gaze fixed at the night sky, hot puffs of air escaping her.

"Those lights," she said when she felt that her voice was working again, "Those fireflies-"

"Those weren't fireflies," Katie cut her off, an unexpected certainty in her tone, "I don't know what they were, but definitely not fireflies."

Angel wasn't sure how to respond to that, wasn't sure about much of anything, to be honest.

"What now?" she asked for she had to do something, "We can't just wait here."

The boys would collect their opals and then return. And Angel wasn't ready to face them yet.

"No," Katie agreed, still out of breath, "Let's go back to the hotel. We'll decide there."

Angel only nodded, "Alright."

Although their bodies felt heavy and nerveless they ended up jogging again, their muscles protesting against the exhaustion, but their minds upset by stagnation, so they kept quiet and just focused on moving forward, the feeling of their soles hitting the gravel, their hair whipping behind them like flags of surrender.

When they finally reached the hotel and entered the foyer it felt a bit like a defeated army returning from war although a glance at the big clock told Angel that they had only been away for about two hours and that it was already close to midnight.

Strange, she thought faintly, she had always believed that it was midnight that did the trick when it came to spooky things. But the lights hadn't been spooky per se. No, they had been fascinating and thrilling and unbelievingly beautiful.

As they climbed up the stairs Angel felt the muscles and tendons in her calves straining painfully. God, come morning she would be so sore. And tired. All she wanted right now was to fall into her bed in sleep, but despite her mental and physical exhaustion she knew that she would be tossing and turning all night long.

"I need to get something from my room," Katie said all of a sudden and she sounded a bit like a fatally beautiful heroine from an action movie who was just about to cock her gun and shoot down a couple of bounty hunters.

Without voicing any of her complaints, Angel leaned against the wall and waited while Katie pulled forth her keycard and proceeded to open the door to her hotel suite, stepping inside, but emerging again after only a few moments.

"Voila," she said and held up her keycard.

Angel frowned, "So what?"

"That's not the key to my room," Katie said, a vicious sparkle in her eyes, "That's the key to Bradley's room."

Right. Angel remembered Bradley's last big prank. Had that really been back in Cardiff? It seemed like such a long time had passed. And Katie had threatened that if she caught Bradley pulling another prank he would have to hand over a spare key to his room so she might get revenge. Of course Katie had caught him, he had given her his key, but she had forfeited her revenge in favor of keeping the key 'for emergencies'. Angel hadn't known that that applied for their hotel in France as well.

"You want to go into his room?" she asked, her throat dry after all the running, "Seriously?"

"We just followed them into the forest to witness something awfully weird," Katie cocked an eyebrow, "And now you're too polite to snoop a bit through his things?"

"Yes," Angel said, "Well, no. But… it just… it doesn't feel right."

"I don't know about you," Katie said, keycard in hand and sauntering down the hallway and over to Bradley's room, "But I won't be getting any sleep tonight if I don't figure this out now."

Angel really couldn't argue with that. So she pushed herself away from the wall to follow her friend.

With a grin over her shoulder Katie reached out her hand and pulled the keycard through the lock's slot like slitting someone's throat. There was a soft click of metal and Angel held her breath as Katie closed her long, white fingers around the handle and opened the door.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I dont know what happened, the girls were simply writing themselves.


	3. Enlightenment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Angel," she said to get her friend's attention, "You remember what Camlann is?"
> 
> Angel was shuffling in the threshold, by now obviously torn between her sentry duty and her curiosity about Katie's possible discoveries.
> 
> "Camlann?" she repeated in surprise, "Wasn't that where the real King Arthur is killed while fighting Mordred?"
> 
> "The real King Arthur…?" Katie mumbled, her finger tips brushing over the paper, slightly smudging the letters, "That would mean…-"
> 
> I

Enlightenment

 

Bradley's room looked much like her own, Katie noticed and was surprised that that surprised her. After all she had been in this room before. There were the same pale yellow walls and the same champagne-colored carpet, similar pretty but rather non-descriptive paintings which showed flowers in vases or beautiful landscapes in France.

The only major difference were the occasional patches of messiness, typically found with young males, clothes discarded where they had been taken off, dropped to the floor instead of being placed over the chair just two steps away.

Contrary to Colin's comment from before, though, there was no underwear to be seen and it did not stink. Much. A room always smelled when there had been two or more men in it.

But that wasn't the peculiar observation that had Katie glance around in curiosity. No, she was here for something far more interesting than smelly socks.

God. She shook her head slightly. Some small part of her was unsettled by the fact that she was amused about this matter. But maybe there was no way around that. It was either to grin mirthfully or to break down screaming hysterically. Choosing the former seemed like the easier course.

So Katie's lips curved downwards in one of those smirks that would have made Morgana jealous: tense, agitated and positively poisonous.

With some resentment she noted that her hands were shaking. How ridiculous. What was she expecting to find? Human skulls and torn off toe nails? A wand and a magic book?

This was Bradley's room. The worst thing she could come across was porn magazines and rotting slices of pizza forgotten in some dark corner.

But a thought slithered into Katie's head like a natter that had just spotted an easy prey.

Was this really Bradley's room? Was this Bradley that she had just seen in the forest? And what about Colin?

Treasonous, treasonous thoughts and so, so confusing.

Katie was vaguely aware of Angel still hovering in the doorway, uncertain whether she should step in.

"What if they come back?" she asked anxiously, her hands tugging at the hem of her worm sweatshirt, "What if they find us here?"

"We'll just claim that we were about to pull a prank," Katie answered, though she hadn't even thought about it before. But there was something in Angel's tone that unsettled her.

"Why?" she demanded, possibly somewhat shrilly, "What do you think they'll do? Throw opals and sic the lights on us? _Please_."

" _Katie_ ," Angel nearly whined, turning her head slightly to peer down the hallway as if she expected the boys to turn up any moment and do exactly what Katie had just made fun of, "I know this is- It's- But you've seen what they've done, what they-"

"They painted a tree and danced around a bit," Katie brushed it off, "So there was some weird natural phenomenon. Or what did you think? You think they are practicing some dark rites and summoning the devil, Angel? You think they are doing magic?"

"Katie!" Angel looked like she was about to be sick with nervousness and Katie bit her tongue; her own uncertainty was no reason to treat her friend like that.

"Sorry," she said contritely, "But really, what do you expect they'll do?"

"I don't know," Angel was staring firmly at the ground and for a moment she looked startlingly like Gwen who had just said or done something that was inappropriate for someone of her standing.

"I don't know," she repeated with emphasis, "I don't know what I just saw in the forest. But it scared me. I'm scared. I'm not saying that I'm scared of Bradley and Colin, but I'd rather not be here when they return. Better save than sorry."

"They are our friends!" Katie said with such conviction that herself was wondering where it stemmed from, "No matter what has happened up till now, they are still our friends. And don't you dare think otherwise until we are absolutely proven wrong."

The expression on Angel's face was something between surprise and chagrin at being told off like that, but then the lines on her forehead softened and her frown fell.

"Thanks," she replied gently, her whole body relaxing, "I needed that."

Katie smiled in relief, "Yeah. Me, too, I think."

Angel squared her shoulders, her poise now rigid with determination instead of agitation, a change Katie definitely approved of, "What now?"

"You can keep watch," Katie answered and then realized how stupid that sounded after what she had just reprimanded her for, "I mean, I agree that we should be prepared for their return. For whatever reason. So you can stand there, keep an eye out on the hallway and tell me when you hear them, while I look around a bit and keep you informed."

"Good idea," Angel nodded and then grinned tentatively, "Back to being a ninja, huh?"

"I don't know," Katie mused, "Did ninja look for evidence and do secret detective work and the like?"  
"No idea," Angel shrugged, "It's more like a being a special agent. 007, you know."

"Cool, then you can be my Bond girl," Katie laughed quietly, "You like that?"

"Deal," Angel giggled in response, then , "Do we get to have sex later? I always had a thing for mysterious men."

"If we survive the unrealistic explosions and gun fights," Katie contemplated and turned her back to the other girl to move about the room, "Sure, why not."

"You think there will be explosions? The pseudo-fireflies did not look like they were about to explode."

"No, they did not," Katie agreed and then paused for a moment.

"Angel…" she began hesitantly, "Did you see what the lights did?"

Though her back was turned, she could practically hear her friend blinking.

"They… suddenly appeared?" she asked, obviously confused, "And started floating and flickering around? As if… as if they were moving all on their own."

"Yes," Katie said carefully, scratching the back of her head, "I mean… you did notice that they rushed over to where we were hiding?"

"Yes. But then I squeezed my eyes shut, I think."

"Oh," Katie bit her lower lip, wondering how she should explain this, "And, er, what did you feel?"

"Huh?" Angel sounded caught off guard, "Uh, warmth maybe? Like sunrays and wind. It was actually rather pleasant."

Katie huffed a laugh. "Yes," she agreed, "Yes, it was."

Bradley's bed was made, she noticed, though there were obvious indentations where the boys had sat before. All over the mattress, however, a bunch of papers was strewn. Various printouts from Wikipedia and Google Maps, brightly-colored post-it notes, a folder, an Atlas and a huge, beaten-up picture book on English folklore.

Katie picked up the last one, opening it on a page that was marked with an orange post-it. There was a beautifully colored drawing of a green pond with a child peering curiously into the water, seemingly unaware of the thin arms that reached up to pull it into the abyss.

 _Grindylow_ the headline read in elaborate italics and Katie marveled at the constricting feeling that clenched its fist inside of her chest, before turning to the next page. This one showed a traveler on a lonely road winding past a moor at night, and the man seemed captivated by the lights dancing across the fen, reaching out towards them, though his large dog kept tugging at his coat.

"What about the lights?" Angel pressed in that moment and Katie surfaced from her thoughts, drawing her eyes away from the glowing dots of yellow that the artist had painted so vividly.

"They… vanished," Katie whispered thoughtfully, touching a hand to her lips and then to the scrap of paper that was stuck between the pages.

 _'try Dartmoor, Devon,'_ it read, strangely enough, and, ' _ghost lights, pixies, large dog'_

"'The House of the Baskervilles' is set in Dartmoor, isn't it?" she asked and Angel made an impatient noise.

"No clue. _What about the lights_ , Katie?"

"They came flying towards me," Katie answered, resolutely snapping the book shut and placing it next to a map of Africa and an empty bag of salty crisps, "And then they vanished inside of me."

The noise Angel made at _that_ revelation was hard to describe. Something between a mortified gasp and fascination maybe.

"It didn't hurt," Katie told her soothingly, "Like you said, it felt like sunshine. They settled on my skin, just like they did with the boys, and then just sank into me. Afterwards I didn't feel much different. Though it did freak me out at that point. That was why I wanted to get away so quickly."

Angel groaned, "I didn't even notice. Some weird lights disappeared inside of me and I didn't even notice. Oh _God."_

"I don't think they meant any harm," Katie mused, walking over to Bradley's table which was much less littered than the bed.

"Who, the lights or the boys?"

"Both," Katie said curtly, placing a hand on the backrest of one of the chairs, again focusing on her task.

On the table lay a brutally ripped open package of chocolate chip cookies, a worn paperback novel and Bradley's script for one of the episodes, his parts marked with pink highlighter and additional notes scribbled in the margins with a blunt pencil

With a curious look Katie pulled the script closer and tried to read the mixture of tiny chicken scrawl and elegant letters. Strange. The messy handwriting was definitely Bradley's, but that elaborate scripture was definitely not his and neither was it Colin's or anyone else's who might have a reason to go doodling in Bradley's papers.

The scene depicted was one between Arthur and Merlin, something playful and teasing, laden with all of the innuendo that many of the fans loved so much.

' _WTF?_ ' Bradley's notes said at one point, ' _How often do they want him to_ polish my sword _?'_

Yes, that sounded like Bradley. The beautiful letters farther down, though, were quite confusing.

_'Rather reminds me of the incident when Lord Padruig had a quarrel with the cofgod'_

That… made no sense at all, as far as Katie could tell.

She tried to recall any episode that made mention of Lord Padruig and a cofgod (whatever _that_ was supposed to be), but came up with nothing.

She skipped a few pages to where Arthur was saying something profound about Merlin's loyalty before riding into battle and again this was marked with the unknown writing.

_'Ask whether you can change it to what you said to him before Camlann"_

Katie frowned. Camlann. She knew that name.

"Angel," she said to get her friend's attention, "You remember what Camlann is?"

Angel was shuffling in the threshold, by now obviously torn between her sentry duty and her curiosity about Katie's possible discoveries.

"Camlann?" she repeated in surprise, "Wasn't that where the real King Arthur is killed while fighting Mordred?"

"The real King Arthur…?" Katie mumbled, her finger tips brushing over the paper, slightly smudging the letters, "That would mean…-"

Katie reared back with a loud, startled gasp, her hand clapping over her mouth, stumbling back a few steps.

"Katie!" Angel exclaimed in shock, rushing over to her and catching her by the shoulder, "What is it? What did you find?"

She threw a hasty look at the script, though obviously not noticing the bit that would explain Katie's violent reaction.

"Katie?" she asked again, this time with more worry than excitement, gently taking her hand and pulling it away from her face, "Everything alright?"

Katie wanted to give her a calming reply, wanted to nod and smile and wave it off. But she couldn't. Her voice was stuck in her throat.

With wide eyes she took another step backwards, away from Angel, and then spun around in a quick circle, scanning the room, scanning everything, trying to find something that would give her an explanation, a definite answer instead of those half-truths and vague evidences that only confused her more.

"Katie?" Angel sounded as if she was biting back tears and Katie wasn't sure whether she had ever heard her like that before. Angel was a tough girl and not easily shaken, and part of Katie berated herself for making her worry even more, but she couldn't help herself.

"Camlann," she bit out when she felt that her voice was working again, "Bradley's notes say something about Camlann."

"So what?" Angel asked, probably feeling completely off the track, "What does that have to do with anything?"

"His notes," Katie insisted, walking over to where Bradley's jacket was hanging from a chair, slipping her hands into the pockets but only coming up with pennies and chewing gum wrappers and an old tissue, "It's as if two different people had written them. But it was him. It was all him!"

"I don't understand," Angel was following her through the room with hesitation as if Katie were about to keel over suddenly. Or maybe she thought that Katie had snapped, too.

Maybe she _had_ snapped, she thought crazily, touching a hand to her forehead. That would make more sense than- than-

"He was there," she rushed to say, hoping that Angel would see her point and tell her whether it did make sense after all, whether it was a valid explanation. Or maybe it was because of the lights. The fucking lights in the fucking fairy circle with fucking magic causing it all.

She spun around and grabbed Angel by the wrists, shaking her violently.

"Bradley was at Camlann!" she hissed, staring into Angel's wetly shimmering eyes, "Bradley was at Camlann. He fought against Mordred. He was killed. He died!"

Through the haze of her hysterics Katie saw sudden tears rolling down Angel's cheeks.

"Katie," she sobbed, "Katie, please calm down."

But Katie only shook her once more.

"Bradley is King Arthur!" she repeated, "That means… that means Colin is Merlin!"

"Of course they are," Angel was swallowing thickly, trying to get herself back under control, trying to make her friend listen to reason, "They are _in the series_. And that's the script on the table. You know that."

"Nonono!" Katie shook her head in desperation, "They are actually Merlin and Arthur! Don't you get it? Everything makes sense now- Well, almost everything. I still don't get how they are still alive, _again_ alive. And what are they even doing here, and the lights and the forest- Okay, I don't get it at all, but it is true. They are real!"

After that outburst the two girls only stared at each other in silence, Katie breathing heavily and Angel shaking through half-suppressed sobs. It was that silence that saved them.

"Bradley, don't!" the hiss of a voice could be heard faintly through the open door, like the loud whisper of a drunk trying to shush someone, "Someone will hear us."

"Then let them hear," Bradley laughed in response, "C'mon, mate, you know you wanna do it as well."

"No, I don't," Colin claimed resolutely and then giggled.

" _We have… the chance to turn the pages over_ ," Bradley began singing somewhere down the hallway, probably still on the stairs, though it was audible that he, too, was half-suffocating on his own laughter, _"We can write what we wanna write , we gotta make ends meet before we get much older_!- You see how that fits, don't you? It's perfect. - _We're all someone's daughter we're all someone's son. Ooh. Can we look at each other down the barrel of a gun?"_

"Dammit!" Angel cursed, suddenly as quick-witted and rational as Katie had been before, their roles now switched, and then she rushed over to the door, closing it as carefully as possible, just when Colin's only slightly quieter voice joining in on the singing.

 _"You're the voice, try and understand it_ ," the muffled voices sounded through the wood, _"Make a noise and make it clear. Oooh. Oooh."_

"We have to hide," Angel hissed after switching off the light, running back to Katie who felt rather shell-shocked, and taking her by the arm, "Come on!"

Numbly Katie followed Angel who tugged her over to the wardrobe on the other side of the room, opening the door and pushing aside some of the hangers. Then Angel climbed into the closet, again pulling Katie with her and quickly closing the door.

In was completely dark. Next to her Katie could feel Angel flopping down on a heap of clothes, her hand still around her arm and dragging her down, but Katie remained standing till eventually Angel's grasp loosened and Katie was free again.

It was fortunate that most of Bradley' clothes were scattered all over the room instead of being neatly stored away in the wardrobe, because otherwise hiding would have been much more uncomfortable.

In that moment the door clicked open, the light was switched on again and Katie could hear Bradley and Colin singing gleefully.  
 _"This time we know we all can stand together, we have the power to be powerful!"_ they roared together as if this were a continuation of their dance in the forest _, "Believe me we can make it better! Ooh! Ooh!"_

Unable to resist the temptation, Katie leaned forward to peer through the narrow gap between the doors of the closet, a slice of light in the dark, and then the boys stepped into her line of vision, Bradley's arm slung around Colin's thin shoulders, the other hand holding on to the bag the younger man had been carrying before. The one that contained gems and pendants and magic stuff.

It was only when she grew light-headed that Katie realized she had been holding her breath, her brain still unable to quite catch up to the conclusion her subconscious had already come to.

These weren't simply Bradley and Colin singing along to a John Farnham song - these were Arthur and Merlin. Was that really, truly possible? Wasn't it just her waning heart hoping to find an explanation for losing touch with two of her dearest friends?

Next to her Angel sat on the ground, quieter than a little mouse, knees pulled up close to her chin, her arms slung around her legs, much like a child seeking refuge from confusing dreams, hiding in the shadows to get away from the dark.

By now the two men had finished their spontaneous singing session, dumping the bag and their hoodies on the floor, and Bradley had wandered over to his bed, randomly picking up one of the maps that was marked with small red dots.

"Soo" Bradley began casually, his outstretched arm holding the printout high above his head so he could peer up at it like an expert inspecting a very interesting piece of art, "How about Egypt?"

"I'm wary of Egyptian magic," Colin answered, snatching up the bag of crisps, shaking it and – upon realizing that it was empty – pulling a face of dismay, "I believe it to be rather dark and dangerous. Don't want to get hit by an ancient curse while snooping around in a pyramid."

"Why, mummies are fun," Bradley snorted, "Ignoring the fact that we are quite capable of dealing with any kind of curse, I could just, you know, slay them with my mighty sword."

"Your mighty sword is still getting rusty on the bottom of a lake," Colin said and then, as if it just occurred to him, "My dear king."

"Yeah, about that," Bradley looked excited, "Can we get it back? I mean, I know I've got no grand destiny left, but I should at least get to keep Excalibur, right? I could assist you after all, you know, help you fulfill your own purpose. What's a sorcerer without a loyal companion, right?"

"So, you'll be the brawns and I'll be the brains?" Colin mused and then nodded with an offhand shrug, "I'm alright with that."

"Very funny," Bradley grimaced, "If I remember correctly, the last time I let you think up a strategy you got your ass handed to you by Mordred."

Colin threw him a bitter look, "Says the one who was killed by Mordred."

"Hey, that was fate," Bradley threw his hands up, "I couldn't do anything against that!"

Despite the half-dark Katie could see from the corner of her eye how Angel had moved both of her hands in front of her mouth, much like she had done in the forest to keep herself from gasping.

Maybe she was beginning to see the truth as well? Maybe she could hear, too, that the boys' conversation wasn't just their usual banter, wasn't just poking fun at their roles.

This was real. This was actually real.

By now Bradley had flopped down onto the bed, after shoving aside most of the books and papers, his arms crossed lazily behind his head, staring up at the ceiling in contemplation. Colin climbed onto the mattress on the other end, his long legs awkwardly folded up in a way that looked rather painful.

"What is it?" he asked without even looking up from the atlas he was leafing through.

"Hm?" Bradley only hummed, eyes half closed.

"I know that face," Colin explained, "It means you're thinking about something. So I thought I better offer some advice before you hurt your head."

"You are a lousy court advisor, Merlin," Bradley laughed, "But a good friend."

Katie tasted blood. She was dimly aware of the fact that she was biting her lower lip, but the pain seemed to be of little importance now.

"That I am," Colin smiled, "So I ask again: what is bothering you?"

"I was just wondering…" Bradley trailed off, thoughtful, "You remember how we met Angel and Katie before we went into the forest?"

"No, sire, I am a very old, senile man. I have forgotten all that happened during the past few hours," Colin blew out an offended breath, "Of course I remember, you prat."

"Good," Bradley huffed and propped himself up on his elbows to get a better look at his friend, "So I was thinking… maybe they figured something out."

Colin gave him a look, "… That would imply that you believe the girls are capable of cunning observations. I'm proud of you, Arthur. It's only your second life time and you're already admitting that maybe women are equal to men."

"Harhar," Bradley pouted, "I'm serious. They must've noticed something. I… I didn't recognize them at once. Sometimes I still have difficulties adapting after I've been too deeply absorbed. It worries me. And the way they looked at me… I'm sure they have seen it."

For a moment Colin was quiet. Then he gave a little sigh.

"I feared as much," he admitted, "And I do know that it is not a joking matter. I, too, have noticed that they have grown wary of us. Though I am afraid that we have only ourselves to blame."

"Yeah, I'm totally out of it half of the time," Bradley flopped back down on the pillow and rubbed both hands over his face, "I'm still surprised no one told me off for breaking that stunt man's rib."

"That wasn't your fault," Colin told him quietly, "To you fighting comes naturally. It's difficult to discern between the act and reality."

"But it shouldn't be!" Bradley sounded frustrated, "It's not like there have been many fights to the death recently."

"But your last true battle did kill you," Colin pointed out, "You're only trying to make the most out of now."

"Fact is," Bradley said, shaking his head and sitting up again, elbows braced on his knees, "Fact is that I think we should tell Angel and Katie."

Angel made a very faint whimpering noise. Katie had long since stopped breathing.

"Tell them?" Colin laughed in disbelief, "And tell them what _? By the way, Bradley here is actually the rebirth of King Arthur and I'm kinda immortal and can do magic_. Yea, that'll go well."

Surprisingly… that admonition shocked Katie much less than she would have expected. All of a sudden she felt very calm and safe. She and Angel weren't going insane. And neither were the boys. It was all well.

"No really, I think we should confide in them," Bradley insisted, "They trust us. And I trust them. I don't want to lie to them like this any longer. They've already noticed something amiss. And… I don't want to risk our friendship."

There was a warm, fuzzy feeling in the pit of Katie's stomach and judging by the slow smile that spread across Colin's face he was feeling exactly the same.

"Yes," he said, folding his hands across the atlas in his lap, "I guess you are right."

"Wonderful," Bradley snuggled back into the pillow, "Now, I'm hungry. Fetch me the bisquits from the table, will ya."

At that the smile promptly disappeared from Colin's lips, probably right along with the fuzzy feeling, and there was a sour expression pursing his mouth.

"Of course, sire," he said, his voice as sweet as snake poison, and then something sailed through the air, rushing towards the bed – and hitting Bradley square in the forehead.

Bradley yelped. Like a little girl, as Katie felt the need to point out smugly.

"What the heck was that for?" he demanded, picking up the package of bisquits from where it had slid onto the mattress and glaring at Colin.

"For your royal hunger, my king," the younger man replied innocently, "Is it not to your liking?"

And so it came to be that Colin had a book thrown at him. It was only a paperback and he managed to duck out of the way in time, but the message was still clear. A pillow fight or something alike was about to ensue. So Katie decided to interfere. She did so in the easiest way that came to her mind.

"Surprise!" she chirped, pushed open the doors and stepped out of the closet.

Angel squeaked. Bradley choked on his bisquit. And Colin fell straight off the bed.

"Hi, boys," Katie gave a little, cheery wave, mostly to hide the last bits of insecurity that were still lurking around the edges of her determination, and then added, "Bradley, please close your mouth, that looks revolting."

Bradley was gagging and wheezing, his face turning bright red. Idly Katie wondered whether she had just caused the rebirth of King Arthur to choke on a chocolate chip cookie; then she wondered whether she was supposed to address him as sire. Nah, she decided, Merlin's right, he's a prat.

She blinked. Oh. Should she keep calling them Bradley and Colin or Arthur and Merlin?

The answer came to her as the younger men scrambled back onto the bed and started to furiously hit the other on the back. Then, as if by a sudden change of mind, his hand stilled, instead resting calmly between his friend's shoulder blades.

Ah, Katie marveled. So that is Merlin.

Bradley at once stopped coughing, his chest not heaving anymore, and after he drew in a deep breath he turned his head to look at Merlin, no word of thanks on his lips but a silent understanding that it was no longer needed between them.

That gaze was nothing like what the boys had often exchanged for the series, which was supposed to be open and yet guarded, brilliant acting, but an act nonetheless. And neither was it what they had had before when they had simply been mates and no one had noticed anything amiss.

No, this was much older, much rawer. Bradley wasn't simply thanking Colin for saving him from death by cookie. Arthur was thanking Merlin for many, many years of friendship and trust and loyalty. And Katie was allowed to witness it all.

All of a sudden she felt all choked up, as if she had been the one with the bisquit down her wind pipe, though she refused to acknowledge that it was because tears were threatening to well up in her eyes.

Thus the strangled sob that interrupted the profound silence did not come from Katie, but from Angel, who was still sitting inside of the closet on a miserable heap of jeans and hoodies.

"Angel, come out of there," Katie said calmly and offered her a hand to pull her to her feet.

Angel looked positively shaken. Which was no surprise really. And after all that emotional turmoil the two of them had gone through this evening they could not be blamed for finally succumbing to this onslaught of feelings and information.

Angel's hand was warm and trusting, grasped tightly between Katie's cooler fingers, and for a moment the two of them shared a special look on their own. Yes, the boys' had something much more epic going on here, but there was no doubt that the girls' relationship had been strengthened as well.

"I do not wish to be rude," Arthur said with Bradley's voice which just sounded so, so hilarious, "But may I inquire what the two of you were doing inside of my wardrobe?"

Katie glanced back over her shoulder to shoot him a pointed look, "May I inquire what the two of you were doing in the forest?"

Arthur's expression resembled that of a child that had just been caught trying to find its birthday presents. Merlin just sighed.

"Isn't that what you wanted?" he asked in slight exasperation, "To tell them everything."

"But we can't!" Arthur hissed, "Not like this, Mer- Colin."  
Now it was Merlin who gave him a look.

"Arthur," he said and the king winced, "They were hiding in the closet. They heard everything we just said. And they followed us into the forest. That means they have already seen me perform magic. There is no way we will be able to convince them of anything else now."

"Damn straight," Katie declared, one hand on her hip, the other still holding on to Angel's for moral support, "That's why we would like an explanation. And when I say explanation I mean the truth. The whole truth. Not just some pacifying bits with a few white lies in between. Got it?"

"Well, well," Merlin shook his head in obvious surrender, "Why don't you sit down then?"

He made a vague gesture with his hand that swept all the rubbish from the bed, the papers and books neatly folding themselves on the bedside table. Then there appeared a plastic tray on top of the blankets, along with two steaming mugs of hot cocoa.

"You look like you need one," he explained casually, beckoning them to step closer.

Tentatively Angel and Katie sat down at the foot end of the mattress, reaching out to grab their cups. With a delightful sigh Katie closed her palms around the porcelain and reveled in the pleasant warmth.

"Hey, why don't I get one, too?" Bradley complained and that alone was enough to show that he was Bradley again.

"Because I'm not your manservant," Colin pointed out, a teasing smirk on his lips, and Bradley only huffed, crossing his arms across his chest.

"You're not trying to poison us, are you?" Angel asked softly, blowing down onto the hot liquid and then taking a small sip, thus rendering her question meaningless.  
"To get rid of you, you mean?" Colin asked and for a moment his smile looked slightly strained, "No, I wouldn't."

"Poison is much too obvious," Bradley claimed, leaning back against the headboard, "We would have to hide the bodies somewhere and that's just too damn complicated. No, Merlin could make it look like an accident or like suicide. Or he could simply erase or even alter your memory. We'd think of something."

"Thanks, you idiot, now they are totally going to trust us!" Colin growled and hit him over the head.

"Don't worry," Katie said, swallowing down a gulp of cocoa, "I think we do trust you. Don't we, Angel?"

"Cheers," Angel only replied and lifted her mug.

For a few moments the four of them sat in silence, something between peaceful and uncomfortable, not exactly tense but definitely waiting for someone else to make the first step. Finally Katie conceded that it was going to be her again.

"So," she began, "Feel free to reveal all of your secrets. We won't even tell anyone else. No one would believe us. Which was probably the reason why you didn't dare to tell us either. But as you can see, Angel and I do believe it; so to keep us from freaking out any further we would like to hear it all directly from you instead of making up a story on our own."

Colin and Bradley exchanged a quick glance and then nodded at each other.

"Well," Colin sat, rubbing his upper arm in a somewhat nervous manner, "Once upon a time there was a stupid, brattish price who was very lucky to become friends with his stunningly handsome and clever manservant who happened to be magic."

"Oi!" Bradley glared, "My life is no fairy tale. And stop giving such shitty descriptions. I was not brattish."

"But you were lucky to be my friend," Colin pointed out. As if against his will a small smile tugged at Bradley's lips and then he was Arthur again.

"Yes," he admitted, "Yes, I was."

"So, as I was saying," Colin sniffed, "He was the prince, I was the manservant. I could do magic. There was some great destiny thing going on. We saved each other's' lives a couple of times. Then Mordred and Morgana happened. Arthur was killed in battle. I used my contacts to ensure he would be reborn. Sixteen centuries passed – during which I was mostly very, very bored, mind you. Finally Arthur was reborn under the name of Bradley James. I found him and became Colin Morgan to become acquainted with him. Used the series to rouse his memories. Roused him memories. He remembered and – voila – I had my brattish king back. The end."

"Oi!" Bradley complained again, "And where's the happily ever after?"

"Good things take time in the making, your majesty," Colin sniffed, "I'm still working on it."

Katie and Angel gaped, just a tad bit unsure of what to make of that.

"That's… it?" they asked hesitantly, "That's the grand story?"

Colin cocked an eyebrow, "Giving you a full account of it all would take hours. And even then it would be nothing as breath-taking and awe-inspiring as what truly happened. This is just the short version. We can fill any gaps as we go along."

"Alright…" the girls glanced at each other, obviously thinking the same thing, "So, basically we should just assume that it was somewhat like in the series?"

"Basically, yes," Bradley said carefully.

"Only that I am much less clumsy," Colin claimed.

"And I'm less of an oblivious ass," Bradley added.

"And Mordred was Morgana's son."

"And Guinevere was a noblewoman."

"And Arthur was actually desperately in love with me."

"And Merlin – wait, what?" Bradley's head whipped around to stare at his friend, "I don't remember that bit."

Colin nodded wisely, "It'll come to you in time."

"Well," Bradley turned up his nose, "I _do_ remember that incident when you got spectacularly drunk and danced through my chambers. Naked."

Colin frowned in a truly adorable way, " _That_ I don't remember."

"Yeah, because you were _drunk_ ," Bradley stressed that important bit of information, "You couldn't recall it the next morning and you sure as hell don't one and a half millennia later."

"Point taken," Colin conceded.

"God, I wish I had brought my camera," Katie sighed and just like that she had two very piercing glares directed at her.

"Don't," Merlin warned her, obviously deathly serious, "Don't even joke about that."

"You are aware of the fact that no one may ever know about this?" Arthur said, his tone unrelenting, "If anyone heard of this, if anyone found out-"

"Guys!" Angel held up her hands in a pacifying manner, "We won't. As Katie already mentioned, no one would believe us. And even if we thought that someone would: we are not nearly naïve and gullible enough to think that this wouldn't cause some major disaster."

"Exactly," Katie nodded fervently, "I mean, I doubt that the Queen would got bat shit crazy like Uther does in the show. But it doesn't take a lot imagination to think that a lot of people would freak out over something like this."

For some reason that remark made the strictness fade from the boys' faces like dew in the morning sun, their shoulders slumping, their heads lowering, and suddenly they looked very small and vulnerable. For a split second Katie wondered why, but then she realized what she had just said and wanted to bite her tongue off.

"And so it's okay that you weren't sure about telling us either," Angel spoke up, though, her voice small but warm, "We understand that it was a huge risk to take."

"Indeed," Colin said, toeing the edge of being more of Merlin again, while Arthur was already puffing up his chest, "We are certainly glad to have such trustworthy and steadfast friends to call our own."

Katie could feel her cheeks warming, incredibly happy and flattered. This Arthur was even better than the one in the series who seemed to be suffering from emotional constipation. The real one obviously had no problems with showering everyone in his sincere affections. It was pleasant and somewhat hilarious because she wanted to know how much influence Bradley had on this.

"So," she clapped her hands once, wanting to get back to the actual subject, "I assume that the two of you are up to something or you wouldn't be here, not like this. What was that show in the forest then? Ghost lights?"

"Oh," Merlin seemed vaguely surprised and then shook his head, "No, those were… well, it's called witch dust. And they're… not much of anything. Technically they are magical amoebae."

"Wait, wait," Angel interrupted him, "Sorry, they are what?"

"Hm," Merlin hummed thoughtfully, "Unlike ghost lights they are no sentient beings. They exist everywhere in a mostly dormant state. But whenever there is strong natural magic they wake up, so to speak, twirl around a bit and proliferate."

Katie cocked an elegant eyebrow, "So what you did today was make funny little lights have sex."

Merlin snorted, "They did not have sex. The influence the magic has on them causes them to duplicate. When their habitat is overcrowded they spread out and settle down somewhere else."

"Okay," Angel said slowly, a look of utter concentration scrunching up her face; she looked incredibly cute, "Go on."

"We chose that tree because of the fairy ring", Merlin explained, "And as you know those are always closely linked to ancient natural magic. We figured that there would be a greater amount of witch dust around. So we had a full moon, runes, gems and incense; all factors that were meant to heighten the magical potential. The spell was what finally roused the particles."

"And what exactly did you do that for?" Katie demanded to know, "Just to check whether there was still some of that dust around?"

"Not only that," Merlin answered, "In nature everything is meant to be a cycle. So while the magic increases the activity of the witch dust, the witch dust also feeds the magic that is within all elements."

"Ooh," slow understanding dawned to Katie, and she thought of how the witch dust had settled upon her skin, sinking into the flesh like cherry tree petals into a lake. She had come into direct contact with a magic-fueling substance. Would that change her somehow? Would she be able to see the future like Morgana did? Or didn't it make any difference at all if you didn't already have any inborn magic potential as well?

"You initiated that first phase so that witch dust would continue to spread on its own," she concluded aloud to distract herself from more confusing thoughts, "But why?"

"Magic is an endangered species," Bradley interfered, "Technically it's already extinct. Safe for this one sightly specimen."

Colin pouted, "Thanks. You make it sound as if I was almost as dead as a dodo."

"That's because you almost _are_ as dead as a dodo. Or at least your species is."

" _Now_ you make me sound like some sort of alien."

"I would never do that, E.T."

"Oh, fuck off."

"Only if you phone home."

Colin shook his head in pitiful surrender, "Why do I even put up with you?"

"Hey, no one forced you to wait for my rebirth," Bradley reminded him, "Or to get me reborn in the first place. Or to sell my destiny."

"Aw, c'mon, how long are you going to be sore about this?"

"I'm not sore," Bradley sniffled, "I'm merely pointing out facts."

"No, you're complaining all of the time! 'I should get to choose a DVD today, Merlin, after all you sold my destiny.' And 'You can't claim that last slice of pizza, you already sold my destiny.' Not to mention that incident last week when you seriously wanted me to-"

"Okay okay, I got it!" Bradley cut him off, clamping a hand over his mouth, "I believe these lovely ladies have some more questions."

Actually, Katie really would have like to know what that incident last week was about, but she'd surely be able to find out later. And then blackmail Bradley with it. Nothing sweeter than holding the King of Albion to ransom. Hm, maybe she had some more of Morgana in her than she had thought.

"Let me get this straight," there was a huge frown in the form of a question mark written all over Angel's pretty face, "You sold his destiny? What? Why? How?"

"Urgh," Colin sounded slightly ill as he scratched the back of his head, "In order to give Arthur's soul the permission and ability to be reborn I had to pay the gods and they wanted his potential destiny. So I gave it to them. Easy as that."

In the background Bradley grumbled quietly, but Katie ignored him in favor of working out all the implications this new revelation brought upon her.

Not only was there magic, no, there were creatures that were considered to be gods. And Merlin had actually bargained with them, which obviously meant that at least in some aspects they were mightier than him, that they held the control over life and death. It made her head spin. Oh dear, she'd never be able to return to life like it was before.

"But what are you doing then?" she asked, feeling oddly numb, "Why this whole reincarnation thing, why the strange rites? What are you trying to accomplish?"

"I want to give Merlin what I failed to give him back then," Arthur replied and his face was grim and wistful and certain at once, "I promised him that magic would be acknowledged and honored. I promised that there would be peace for those like him. I promised I would be the king he needed me to be. Now I have returned and I cannot give him honor, I cannot give him peace. I shall never again be king. But I can stand by his side, like he stood by mine, and I can humbly offer him all else I have to give."

And so it came to be that Katie was feeling all choked up again. She was very, very sure that she had never gone so quickly through so many various emotions in such a short time. Sometimes having to play a very demanding scene over and over again got to her and made her feel exhausted and wan, but that was nothing like this for it weren't her own feelings that got balled up and spread out, balled up and spread out like a piece of crumbled paper.

"I want to revive the magic that is within life itself," Merlin continued softly, "Nothing can exist without it, but as Bradley already said: it's almost extinct for various reasons. But Nature will die if this continues everything will die and then there will be nothing left. I have to prevent it. That's what the gods wanted me to do. I have to save the magic in this world."

"And you're going to do that?" Angel asked, intrigued and fascinated and maybe a little bit scared, "You'll bring magic back to us?"

Merlin smiled and exchanged another of those meaningful looks with Arthur who simply smiled back. The only difference now, though, was that Katie could finally read these looks, could understand the past that lay behind them and see a glance of the future that still lay ahead.

"Yes," Merlin said and in his eyes shone Colin and by his side was Arthur and that cheeky, self-assured grin was definitely Bradley, "Yes, we will."

It was alright like that, Katie realized with a soothing sort of certainty, a calmness that washed over her like cool water over the smooth stones at bottom of a brook. She was alright and Angel was alright and their boys were alright, and maybe, maybe with a little bit of luck and a little bit of magic, this whole world would one day be somehow alright as well.

**~o0o~**


	4. Rising

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In that moment the bathroom door slammed open.
> 
> "Merlin!" Bradley yelled as he came rushing out, each step half a jump as if the floor was burning his feet, "Merlin, I smashed the toothbrush tumbler!"
> 
> "Well done, Bradley, I'm proud of you," Merlin said without looking up from his book.
> 
> Really, Merlin shouldn't have been surprised. After all, stranger things had happened.

**Rising**

 

"I need a shower," Bradley said the moment they stepped into the hotel room, tossed his rucksack aside and then flopped down onto the bed.

He might have added something else, but since his face was buried deep in his pillow it came out as an unintelligible groan, so Colin didn't bother asking.

"Yes, you do smell a bit," he only agreed, peeling off his shoes and setting them down by the door. Okay, he only kicked them off and didn't even look where exactly the landed, but hey, those indulgences were the simple pleasures of being a young man again.

"I smell?" Bradley asked, lifting his head only slightly, so that the left side of his mouth was still muffled, "Now, whose fault is that?"

"That of your perspiratory glands?" Colin mused innocently as he crossed the room and sat down on his own bed.

"No," Bradley gave him a half-hearted glare, "I was rather thinking of the stupid, almighty sorcerer who claims to be my friend but doesn't even care when I'm sweating to death."

"Don't worry , I wouldn't have let you die of dehydration," Colin grinned, "Would have been rather counterproductive after getting you back after all these years."

"My thoughts exactly," Bradley huffed, "So I would appreciate it if you took better care of me."

"Hey, _you_ wanted to go to Australia," Colin reminded him.

"Only because _you_ didn't want to go to Egypt," Bradley reminded him.

"I'm rather sure it would've been even hotter there," Colin pointed out, "And the camels would have hit on you."

"The camels would have _what_?" Bradley pulled a disgusted face, "Why would they- I don't even- Thanks for that mental imagine!"

"Glad to be of service," Colin grinned cheekily and then wandered over to the phone on the coffee table before flopping down onto the couch, "Shall I order dinner to pamper you some more?"

"I liked you better when you had to do more than make a phone call to get me my food," Arthur grumbled and turned his face back into the pillow.

"Then I will at least allow myself the pleasure of picking out something you'll find mouth-watering," Colin chirped, "Something hot and beefy."

Bradley groaned, "Are you making gay jokes?"

"Who, me?" his friend asked innocently, "I would never do that."

And with those words and another teasing grin he grabbed the phone and speed-dialed the hotel's room service, leafing through the menu although he was pretty sure what he was going to order.

"The barbeque beef sandwich," he told the friendly girl on the other end of the line, "And a Vegan Shepard's Pie. And some sparkling water will do."

"Beer!" Bradley's voice sounded out of the pillow but Colin ignored him.

"Yes, thank you," he said politely and then hung up.

"You need something substantial before you drink alcohol," he informed Bradley, "Especially if you're really as dehydrated as you claim to be. And now go take your shower before your bed gets any dirtier."

"Yes, mom, sorry, mom," Bradley mumbled and stayed right where he was.

Merlin sighed. Who would have thought that traveling with Bradley was almost as exhausting as going on a hunt with Arthur?

Nowadays he didn't have to drag hunting gear and dead game along, he didn't have to take care of the horses and the fire, and yet mothering Bradley was one hell of a task.

At least the hotel was nice. And Australia, of course. They were staying in Ipswich, just behind Brisbane, Queensland.

Merlin had been here before, a long long time ago, centuries prior to when the land had been giving new names by the first European settlers who claimed that this continent rightfully belonged to them.

All in all, though, it hadn't changed much, not if you left the outskirts of the cities behind you and only concentrated on the sensation of the magic thrumming through the earth and against the soles of your feed, the dry air in your lungs so unlike the climate of the Kingdom. They hadn't even reached the true Outback yet and already there was this atmosphere of untainted wilderness surrounding them.

It had been the right decision to come here. And despite the fact that he was complaining half of the time, it was apparent that even Bradley felt the ancient magic all around. In those moment he grew quiet and contemplative and looked around as if expecting something to show itself, some old shaman or a mystical being or anything else that manifested the power of that untamed magic.

Of course, that was exactly what Merlin was waiting for, too. That was the reason why they had come here in the first place.

There were creatures here, all of them much older than Merlin himself, older than even Time maybe, that kept the balance of the worlds. Merlin had met some of them before, most importantly the Rainbow Serpent how it was commonly called. He, too, used that name, for it was impossible for any human being to speak the true language and survive. It filled him with a sense of awe that he couldn't put into words, for those as well were too small, too meaningless, too grey to describe the wonder that was the Dream Time.

He hadn't told Bradley about it yet. Even Arthur would most likely be too overwhelmed to encounter the Serpent and emerge unchanged. Merlin could vividly remember how he had been changed, unharmed, unscathed, but changed nonetheless, and he couldn't risk to put either Arthur or Bradley through that ordeal.

So he kept quiet about it and alert to interfere in case his king ran the danger of exposing himself to powers that were unimaginable. There were enough other, less threatening sources of magic that they would be able to discover and examine together.

With a fond smile and a glance over at his friend he remembered their journey here and the adventures that were sure to come. Bradley had been incredibly nervous about getting Excalibur safely past the security at the airport, but luckily confusing technology was mere child's play for someone like Merlin.

Indeed, hiding anything that was unusual about them was so important that it was already second nature. He didn't have to think about it any more than he had to about breathing. He had taught himself to suppress all traits that distinguished himself as a sorcerer back when he had still been a young lad serving the only slightly older Prince Arthur. He hadn't dared to give himself away and thus denied his very nature.

He still did that most of the time and no one was really aware of that. Of course that was mostly due to the fact that only three people knew of his being a warlock at all. Arthur suspected it, surely, after all they spent most of their time together, and he had possibly even figured some of it out.

But Merlin couldn't risk exposing certain facets of himself. So he hid them like he hid Excalibur and no one was allowed to see them. It was safer this way.

Bradley had seemed somewhat disappointed when he figured out that Merlin's eyes actually used to turn gold before he had gotten rid of that habit because it was a dead-giveaway. But he had been doing it for such a long time now that he didn't even contemplate it anymore. He did magic and his eyes stayed blue. No sense in hoping to please Bradley and risk exposing it all.

He must've have gotten lost in his musings because he only looked up again when Bradley got up from the bed to let in the maid who brought them their dinner.

She pushed her small cart into the room, smiling at Bradley in a polite but slightly confused way which showed that she was sure she had seen him before but couldn't quite pinpoint his face

"Good evening, sir," she greeting Merlin as well who smiled back, and then he could see recognition dawning in her eyes.

To her credit she didn't make a fool of herself, but only asked whether they would like to dine on the table and then set out the plates, pouring their water. When Bradley caught sight of his beef sandwich his stomach grumbled loudly, accompanied by an embarrassed grin.

"Sorry," he said, "I feel like I haven't eaten in days."

Merlin cocked an eyebrow, "Now you're exaggerating."

Bradley shot him a dark look, "If you wouldn't run me ragged all of the time and actually gave me a few moments to catch my breath-"

"It's not my fault you're completely out of shape," Merlin taunted him and gracefully rose from the couch, sauntering over to the dinner table.

The maid was still smiling but her gaze kept slipping back and forth between them as if unsure of what to make of that conversation.

Great, Merlin thought, she had recognized them and was now wondering what the two of them were doing in Australia, sharing a hotel room. The only upside was that she was obviously no crazed fan-girl that would post this in some forum as soon as she got her hands on any kind of device with an internet connection. Small mercies.

But oh well, it was probably better to have fans gossip about their supposed love life than to have them find out the real reason for their voyage. And according to Katie's online research even that wasn't all that farfetched. Boy, when he had signed up for his role - heck, when he had developed the series - he had had no idea how the obsession of some people could get out of hand. He still shuddered every time he recalled certain links Katie had sent them. She was a cruel, cruel woman, even if not as maniacal as Morgana had been.

The maid wished them a good evening and the two young men settled down for dinner. To give Bradley some credit, the smell was heavenly and Merlin's stomach twisted as well in anticipation of their meal.

Bradley dug in like usually only pubescent boys did whose bodies were still trying to compensate various growth spurts. Fleetingly Merlin wondered whether the complaints hadn't been an exaggeration and Bradley was really that exhausted from all their adventures, which would be an interesting turn for a change.

Merlin had trained himself to survive on as little sustenance as possible. He didn't need to eat every day and he didn't even necessarily require food. Despite his rebirth, though, Bradley was human through and through, complete with all the weaknesses and failures that came with mortality.

With a silent smile Merlin watched as Bradley finished his beef sandwiches in a matter of minutes, while he allowed himself to enjoy the taste of his own meal, taking only small bites instead of gulping down everything at once.

"It would be more satisfying if you actually chewed in between," he pointed out with feigned disapproval and Bradley pulled a face, "You really do have a thing for reprimanding me, don't you?"

"Catching up on the times I missed out on, sire," Merlin chuckled and sipped on his water.

Bradley gave him a long, contemplative look and when he blinked he was Arthur.

"Hm," he only grunted and turned back to his dinner, continuing to eat at a more measured pace.

Merlin waited a couple of moments in slight bewilderment at that strange reaction and then viciously pierced another piece of veggie pie with his fork. Moody kings could be so infuriating.

After he had finished Arthur leaned back in his chair, both hands on his knees, relaxing his stance like he had done so often after a busy day. It was a familiar sight and Merlin reveled in it, glancing up through his lashes instead of down at his plate.

The moment was broken, however, when a muffled buzzing sound disturbed the silence and startled Arthur who then reached into the pocket of his pants.

"Hello there," Bradley looked down at the display of his cellphone which had started vibrating, "Katie's calling."

He pushed a button and then lifted the phone to his ear.

"SSMRS speaking," he answered seriously in a very deep voice and Merlin glanced up once more.

"No, it does not sound like an illness," Bradley protested against what Katie had just said, "It's short for Super Secret Magic Resurrection Squad."

He rolled his eyes, "Of course we are a squad, we're technically four people. And no, you and Angel are our informants but not part of the actual squad. If you work hard you might be promoted to secretary, though. …How would we get official authorization if we are super secret? … No, we are not Torchwood, we are a lot more discreet than that. And we don't have guns. Or random sex with everything that vaguely resembles anything with genitalia. … Yes, I'm pretty sure about that. … Yes, we do have genitalia. … No, that does not mean that we are shagging. Are you and Angel shagging? … No, I won't fall for that again. I'm not that gullible. … Very funny, Katie, very funny. Did you just call to tell me that?"

He then listened for a while, nodding distractedly although Katie couldn't see it, of course. After a while he made a thoughtful noise and turned back to Merlin.

"Katie says Angel heard something about a Nessie sighting, though it doesn't sound very believable," he relayed and then listened to Katie again.

"And Katie's been performing the rites with the charms you gave her," he added, "By now there's a lot more witch dust around than there was two months ago."

"That means it's working," Merlin mused thoughtfully, tapping his fork against his lower lip, "Excellent."

"Angel didn't have as much luck," Bradley explained, "Then again she is still in London and nowhere near a real forest."

"I suspected as much," Merlin nodded, "But that, too, will change over time."

"Yes," Bradley answered Katie and then rolled his eyes, "Of course, our wedding night was very enjoyable. No, I won't give you any details. You've watched too much Sex and the City."

So Katie was still teasing them about the honey moon thing. As if two mates who were destined for each other couldn't go on a trip to Australia to revive some magic and change the ways of the world without there being a sexual relationship. _Please_. Colin couldn't help but laugh into his glass, making the water bubble in reaction.

Bradley threw him a look and grinned. Colin grinned back in response and for a moment he saw something like utter delight in Bradley's blue eyes.

"We love you, too, Katie," he said then and the moment passed, "Tell Angel we said hi, okay? And we'll write you another email when something interesting happens for a change. We mostly go sight-seeing at the moment. … Yeah, we'll do that. Alright. Later."

Merlin finished his dinner quietly, downing the last of his drink and then placing the glass back on the table. For a moment he stared at the dirty plates and was tempted to clean up like he always had after Arthur had eaten, not with magic, but with his own hands.

But no. They would leave everything there until a maid returned, either later this evening or in the morning when they were already gone on their next trip. Old habits died hard, though. Merlin folded his hands deliberately, entwining his fingers tightly, like a prayer.

Then he forced them apart again and stood up from his chair, intending to huddle up on the sofa and read a bit. He didn't get far, though.

From the corner of his eye he barely caught the blur of Bradley's green shirt. Then something hit him in the side and he was tackled onto the couch, his face mashed against the cushion. After letting out a rather undignified yelp, of course.

"What the- Bradley!" he protested, trying to get his hands under him to push himself up. Bradley's arms, however, were tightly locked around him and prevented his escape.

"Gotcha!" he young man claimed happily as if oblivious to Merlin's disapproval.

"What are you doing?" Merlin shrieked, trying to wiggle free, but only making it worse.

"C'mon, defend yourself, soldier," Bradley teased him, half of his weight crushing down on his friend, "You can do better than that!"

"Let go, Bradley," Merlin demanded, feeling a frown forming on his forehead.

"Nope," Bradley grinned smugly, "You're not getting out of this one."

"Why are you even doing this?" Merlin wanted to know, tensing as he felt Bradley's fingertips creeping along his sides.

"You'll see," Bradley only promised mysteriously – and then he began tickling Merlin.

Merlin held his breath. He wasn't ticklish. He was absolutely not ticklish. Okay, maybe a little bit.

But he resisted the urge to laugh out loud, instead pressing his face against the soft fabric that covered the couch.

Behind him Bradley was chuckling, but Merlin refused to join in. Bradley's fingers grew a little bit more forceful, a little bit rougher, until it wasn't even ticklish anymore. Merlin could tell that his skin would be red and sore after this.

As suddenly as it had started it stopped.

Merlin was growing a little light-headed, but then Bradley shifted and a second later his weight was gone. Awkwardly Merlin rolled around, sending an accusing glare up at him, "What was that for?"

But Bradley's face was dark, his gaze averted.

Merlin stilled.

"Bradley…?" he asked hesitantly, unsure what had brought this change on.

"Hey," Merlin pushed himself up and reached out a careful hand to touch his shoulder. When Bradley flinched, Merlin inwardly winced as well.

"Alright?" Merlin said quietly even though it was obvious that nothing was alright in this moment.

And Bradley looked at him. Really looked at him. As if expecting something important to happen.

Merlin stared back, not knowing what that something was supposed to be.

A long moment passed like this, the two friends standing half a meter apart in a hotel room somewhere in Ipswich, Brisbane, Australia, Merlin's hand hovering in the air, the two of them simply staring at each other, no words spoken.

Finally, though, Bradley sighed deeply.

"I'm gonna take a shower," he declared with a final ring to his tone, turning around to march through the room.

Merlin could only stare at his back, watching as his friend opened the door and disappeared inside the bathroom. Then he let himself fall back onto the sofa, blindly reaching out to pick up his book to open it with numb fingers, feeling somewhat thrown after this confusing turn of events.

Sometimes, though he would never admit it out loud, Merlin missed being Arthur's manservant. Missed preparing his bath and dressing him in armor. Nowadays there were hot showers whenever you wanted them but no reason to ride off into battle.

Bradley James did not have any grand destiny. And it seemed that he had no real need for Merlin either. Their paths were no longer inevitably entwined. They had only met in this life because Merlin had insisted on it, had only become friends because Merlin had planned it.

And both Arthur and Bradley remained by his side out of a sense of duty and debt instead of true loyalty.

The twenty-first century simply wasn't an era for legends and heroes. That time had long since passed.

The only thing left now was Merlin with his memories, all that he treasured deep within his heart.

Yes, Arthur's rebirth remembered seeing Camelot in all its glory, remembered the weight of the crown and the thrill of slaying a beast. But it was Merlin who truly knew what it meant for give up one's life, Merlin who had breathed the air of that world, who had stood upon the castle's battlement and conjured up storms that equaled none which had been before or ever after.

He knew it was unfair to think like this, unfair to blame it on Arthur, on Bradley who never had a say in the matter, who were killed and then reborn against their will. But in certain moments, when Merlin looked at Bradley and could not read him, could not understand what he was thinking, he felt so very old and lonely. Like when he had first come to Camelot, desperate to prove himself to his new master, to become the companion he wanted and needed to be. He had been young and foolish back then, uncertain of himself because he lacked experience. But between then and now Merlin had lived many life times all over again – shouldn't he have finally grown wiser? Shouldn't he be more aloof in the face of such pathetic notions?

But he was not. He was still fighting for Arthur as he always had.

Being Colin, though, was easier most of the time. Being Colin meant being young again without many lifetimes bearing down on him, without painful memories always present in his mind. He could see the same in Arthur's eyes, that unspoken longing for things long lost. Bradley and Colin were still unblemished, untouched by the world's cruelty. Their existence eased the difficulties of moving and acting in this world, among those oblivious people all around them who neither felt magic nor believed in it.

They only had each other here, though at times it seemed that it just made everything more difficult. Of course, now that Angel and Katie were privy to their secret as well they had at least two more friends to talk to and to confide in. But it just wasn't the same. No one would ever understand what their first lifetime had been like. And not even Arthur had the faintest idea of what it felt like to be Merlin, to be without age, without impending death. When he thought about it for too long it left him breathless and scared. But maybe it would all come to an end soon. He would be able to share these few precious years with Arthur and then he would allow himself to die.

He felt he could appreciate it more when he was Merlin, though. When he carried the raw pain of losing Arthur just beneath the surface of his existence. Colin was too careless, too lighthearted to live with that feeling. It would weight him down and make it impossible to look ahead and clearly see their path. So he stayed Merlin, both because and despite of that pain and the knowledge that Bradley did it the other way round.

Bradley did not allow himself to get lost in his past life. Naturally, he didn't refuse those moments in which he became Arthur and experienced certain memories again and again. He had been a prince and a king and a knight and a warrior and a conqueror and a judge and a friend and a husband. He had fought, he had survived, he had killed, he had hurt, he had reigned, he had loathed and he had loved.

It was all too big to embody it all, too much of a burden to carry around all of the time. But in lonely moments he grew quiet and wistful and he would look back into the past and remember his wedding day and long for Guinevere, the thrill of battle and the exhilaration of victory afterwards. Arthur had lived for these moments but Bradley James did not.

It was better like that, Merlin mused. He wouldn't want Bradley to waste his future on the past. That was not what this life had been meant for, what Merlin had wanted to gift him with when he had bargained for his rebirth.

Bradley should be given the chance to experience this world on his own, to make his own memories, to try and fail or succeed, to love, to fight, to fall down, to get back up again. That was what Arthur and Bradley would always have in common: that uncanny resilience, that determination to keep going and to make it better, no matter what happened.

In the background the sound of the running shower had ceased and Bradley was tinkering around in the bathroom. With an amused smile Merlin listened more closely and heard that his friend was quietly singing some song, or at least the chorus, only humming along the parts of which he had forgotten the lyrics. Oh dear. Merlin choked slightly. He was singing Pokerface. Wonderful.

Suddenly, though, there was silence, followed by a small crash and then a curse.

Right. Merlin blinked and turned back to his book of which he had only read a couple of completely disjoined words. Of course _he_ was known to be a clumsy fool while Bradley was the one who broke things all of the time. The ribs of certain stuntmen for example.

In that moment the bathroom door slammed open.

"Merlin!" Bradley yelled as he came rushing out, each step half a jump as if the floor was burning his feet, "Merlin, I smashed the toothbrush tumbler!"

"Well done, Bradley, I'm proud of you," Merlin said without looking up from his book.

"No, really!" Bradley came to a sudden halt in front of him, gesturing wildly, "I accidentally smashed it!"

"Yes, I got that the first time you said it."

"I let it fall and then it scattered on the tiles."

"I suspected as much."

"But in between I made it stop!"

"… What?" Merlin asked, glancing up in confusing.

"I made it stop!" Bradley's arms were still flailing around to express his excitement, "I just thought 'Shit' and then it stopped midair!"

"Bradley," Merlin said and stood up slowly, putting his book aside before placing two calming hand on his friend's shoulders, "Are you sure?"

"Yes!" Bradley exclaimed, his eyes wide in exhilaration and stunned disbelief, "I did magic!"

"Wow," Colin felt definitely a little overwhelmed, so he flopped back down on his chair, "Seriously?"

"I did magic," Bradley repeated, paused for a moment and then added matter-of-factly, "And I think my feet are bleeding."

"Huh?" Colin stared, "What's that to do with anything?"

"I stepped into the shards," Bradley answered, numbly looking down at his feet, "Do keep up, idiot."

"Okay, sit down on the chair," Colin ordered, jumped up again and gently maneuvered him to do as he was told, "I'll treat your wounds."

It was easier like that, Colin thought. He knew what he had to do to mend broken skin. But this other turn of events had completely thrown him.

Bradley was only wearing shorts and a t-shirt, his hair still damp and his feet bare. There was a giddy smile on his face, though, which gave away his exuberance. Either the adrenaline distracted him from the pain or his feet didn't hurt that much.

"Sit still," Colin ordered because Bradley was fidgeting as his ankle was grabbed and his foot lifted.

"Ouch," Colin commented on the sight of blood that greeted him, but then narrowed his eyes, "It doesn't look that bad."

The tumbler had apparently scattered into many small pieces, none of which were particularly sharp. Otherwise Bradley might've just lost a toe (nothing Merlin couldn't heal, of course, but still painful). As it was, though, there were only some smaller, almost round bits digging into the sensitive skin of the arches and into the callus of the heel. The tiny wounds on the latter were only oozing sluggishly, while the cuts on the former were smeared with bright red blood. The other foot didn't look much better.

"That was stupid," Colin chided him gently, running his fingertips along the skin, simultaneously pulling out the shards and repairing the skin, "You should know to be for more careful.

"Yeah yeah," Bradley waved it off, already shifting around again as Colin took care of his left foot, "But that's not the important bit, right?"

"Isn't it?" Colin asked mildly, "I'd think feet are quite important. You know, for walking around and wearing fancy shoes and getting massages."

"As if you'd ever massage my feet," Bradley huffed, "And yes, I quite like my feet, too, and I promise we can immerse ourselves in that topic to our hearts' delight later on, but right now I'd like to focus on some other aspect that is awesome about me."

"And that would be?" Colin sniffed, examined Bradley's feet once more before setting them back down on the carpeted floor where he stayed seated as well.

"Colin!" Bradley looked as if here were close to throttling him, "I just did magic and you concentrate on my bloody toes!"

"Was that supposed to be a pun?"  
"Colin!"

"Yes yes," Colin conceded and lifted his hands in surrender before Merlin scratched his chin in a thoughtful manner.

"So, here's an idea," he said slowly, mulling the matter over in his head, "Because of the extended time your soul spent on Avalon plus the energy used for your rebirth added to the countless times I've used you as a magical conductor for witch dust and other rites, we can only assume that somehow you have developed some magic potential on your own."

"Seriously?" Bradley asked and then grinned broadly, "Sweet, man."

"Well, I doubt you'll ever be able to do anything big," Merlin warned him, "But it might help you out in a pitch."

"For example if I managed to fall off a building," Bradley noted and Merlin gave him a skeptical look, "If you manage to fall off a building I'm not sure whether you deserve any saving. But alas, fortune favors fools, so yes. Mind you, that is no reason to go and start jumping down from roofs just to try it out."

But Bradley's grin only intensified.

"I've got magic," he repeated, obviously thrilled at the mere notion.

"Technically, no," Merlin corrected, "You're more like a battery. An accumulator. I might have to recharge you now and again so that it works."

"Then why don't you just charge me with a greater amount and I can do more than just stop a falling glass for half a second?"

"Okay. Let me explain this," Merlin gave him an indulgent smile like one would do with a nosy child, "Imagine I take your hands now and simply channel a lot of magic into you. What do you think would happen?"

"Mhmm," Bradley thought for a moment, "My eyes would start glowing creepily like they did with Rose from Doctor Who?"

"Possibly," Merlin continued to smile sweetly, "It's more likely, though, that you'd just be in a lot of pain and then drop dead. Would you like that?"

"Erm, no?"

"Exactly. So I will not take your hands and channel a lot of magic into you. By I can give you a little bit every day and slowly increase the quantity to see what happens then. Because that might possibly work."

"Awesome," Bradley slid down from the chair and onto the floor to grab Merlin's hands, "Do it."

Merlin gave him a look, "Now?"

"Why wait?"

"Because you-" Merlin paused for a moment but couldn't come up with a good reason. Why wait, indeed.

"Alright," he gave in, lacing his fingers with Bradley's, "Try not to fidget."

Bradley only nodded once, completely focused on their joint hands, like an eager child waiting for something… well, something magical to happen.

"Alright," Merlin repeated, taking a deep breath to concentrate, reaching for his magic that lay both deep within his core and just simmering beneath the surface. He was filled with it to the brim and to him it would make no difference if he shared a little bit with Bradley. He only had to figure out which mixture of the two kinds would be most advisable.

The subliminal magic was that which reached outside and acted when an actual spell was performed. That was what Bradley had done before when he had stopped the toothbrush tumbler. The magic reacted more quickly than his thoughts did.

The abyssal magic, however, was the true art, the inborn one which usually fed the subliminal layer. The question was whether Bradley was really just a conductor or whether his rebirth had caused him to have such a magical core as well. It was quite possible that with enough feeding and all due training that core would grow, eventually enabling Bradley to perform smaller magic as he wished.

So Merlin decided on 70% subliminal and 30% abyssal, and he could feel it deep inside, just behind his belly button and within his lungs and his heart and his spine, bubbling up slowly, making his tongue and ears and skin tingle, a very peculiar sensation, until it finally focused on his fingers.

Bradley must've been feeling the same for he winched slightly in reaction to that quickly rippling beat, like a small, but on-going electric shock.

That shock didn't last long, maybe a minute, but it left both of them feeling breathless and light-headed, rollercoaster-induced giggles spilling from their lips as they stared at each other. Bradley's cheeks were flushed and his mouth distorted into helpless laughter, eyes slightly narrowed and-

Merlin did a double-take, staring at his friend in wonder. It shouldn't have been this surprising; he should have expected it, but still…

After a few more moments Bradley's giggles subsided and he looked at Merlin, his head curiously tilted to the side.

"What," he asked, "Do I have something on my face?"

Numbly Merlin shook his head.

"No," he said, "But your eyes…"

Bradley frowned, "What's with them?"

"They are glowing."

"Oh," Bradley paused, contemplating that information, "Does that mean that I will drop dead after all?"

Merlin gave him a crooked grin, "Probably not."

"Hm. Will you have to send me into an alternate universe to save the balance of time and space?"

"Bradley, there is no such thing as time lords and alternate universes."

"Yeah, just like the is no such thing as magic and dragons and-"

"Okay, okay, I get it," Merlin interrupted him quickly, "Now, do you want to test your new powers?"

"Cool, that makes me sound like a super hero."

"Yeah, but you're more the Iron Man type," Merlin mused teasingly, "Pretty much useless without a metal armor."

"Why, thank you, stupid skinny manservant who never managed to lift a sword with his bare hands."

"Because I never needed to."

"Safe for that one time when you were totally out of magic because of that incident in the Eastern Forest by the-"

"Alright, alright," Merlin pouted, "But I was already as good as dead then. I wouldn't have managed to lift a twig if I had wanted to. Now, though, we can see whether you'll manage to lift anything with your magic."

Bradley nodded enthusiastically and then looked around, "Like what?"

"Oh, I don't know," Merlin nodded over to his bed, "Take a pillow. At least it won't break and no one will get hurt."

"Alright," Bradley rubbed his palms in anticipation, took a deep breath and then- faltered, "How do I do this again?"

"Just concentrate," Merlin instructed him, "You don't need any fancy spells or gestures. Focus on the pillow and try to lift it up."

So Bradley concentrated. Which basically looked like he was in dire need of a toilet.

Colin laughed out loud but quickly snapped his mouth shut again when Bradley glared at him.

"Sorry sorry," he apologized and lifted his hands in a soothing manner, "I know you're trying."

"I don't feel anything," Bradley admitted, "When I stopped the tumbler I felt the magic welling up in me. Now it doesn't do anything."

"Hm," Merlin hummed, "Maybe you need more of an incentive than just letting a pillow float around."

"What do you mean?"

"Perhaps…" Merlin thoughtfully tapped a finger against his lower lip, but that was mainly to hide his smile, because a second later the fancy porcelain vase from the window sill soared through the air and towards Bradley's head.

"Whoa!" Bradley yelped, staring at the vase, just as it stopped barely ten centimeters from his nose, hovering motionlessly in thin air. His eyes were glittering golden.

"Well done," Merlin applauded politely, "Just as I thought."

"Huh?" Bradley blinked at him and jumped when the vase started falling. He caught it again; this time, though, only with his hands.

"You're a warrior through and through," Merlin pointed out, "It's an instinctive reaction to danger, only that instead of ducking or blocking it with your body and sword you stop the danger with your magic. That's why you managed to catch the tumbler without thinking about it."

"Oh," Bradley seemed slightly disappointed, "That means I'll only be able to do it when it's really necessary?"

"Possibly," Merlin admitted but when he saw Bradley's crestfallen expression he added softly, "But with a little bit of training it'll come to you in time. Magic is influenced by a lot of things. The balance in this world is already disturbed so it must be more difficult for you to maintain control. But even that will cease to be an obstacle soon enough."

Bradley's obvious delight was gratification enough for all the long and tedious hours of teaching Merlin could already see coming towards him.

They practiced for the next thirty minutes until Bradley was completely exhausted, both in magical and mental ways. In that span he managed to break the vase (not by lifting it and letting it fall, but accidentally by simply looking at it), let Merlin's socks disappear to God knows where (and not even Merlin could figure out how to get them back) and turned his hair instead of the curtains green after having been told to focus on what was in his head (Merlin was tempted to leave him that way because it made him look like a grumpy gnome, but gave in and turned it blond again).

After all that Bradley barely succeeded in pulling himself up from the floor and stumbling over to his bed, falling down face first like it was his habit.

"Was it that difficult for you as well?" he wanted to know, awkwardly pulling his blanket from under himself by wrapping it around his legs.

Merlin shook his head, "No. I was born this way. I've been able to do magic since my birth. It just happens. As a child I used to misjudge my powers. Wreaked quite a lot of havoc, you can imagine."

"Your poor mother," Arthur snorted, "You must've been a handful."

"I was," Merlin admitted, "Come time you will be, too. I can already see myself running after you while you march around blowing up crap."

"I'm not that careless," Arthur complained.

"I'm not saying that you are," Merlin replied, "But magic can be deceptive. Mine seems to be well compatible with you, but it might still try to cause some uproar."  
At that Arthur paused for a moment.

"Are you telling me…" he said slowly, "That you channeled your magic into me although you didn't quite know how my body might react to it?"

Merlin felt himself fluster and cleared his throat.

"Well," he said haltingly, "I was rather certain that you would be able to tolerate it."

"Merlin!" Arthur pushed himself up from the mattress, "You tell me to be careful with my magic because I might 'blow up crap' and then you do something that might blow _me_ up?"

Merlin stared at him, open-mouthed.

"What?" Arthur demanded with a frown; but Merlin only shook his head.

"It's just…" he began and then trailed off, "To hear you speaking of _your_ magic… It's a bit bizarre."

"I always thought living in the twenty-first century and being able to drive around in horseless carriages was a bit bizarre," Arthur harrumphed, "I guess it all depends on the point of view."

Merlin smiled faintly as he got up from the floor as well and wandered over to the bed.

"I'm sorry," he relented and sat down at the edge, "You are right."

"I am always right," Arthur claimed, closing his eyes, "And when I am not I have my advisors to tell me so."

Merlin's smile grew stronger.

"You only have me," he pointed out quietly and Arthur nodded, "Exactly. So I expect you to tell me when I do something foolish."

"You're never foolish," Merlin told him, "A bit of a prat and an idiot at times, but not truly foolish. You never were. You are wise and merciful and gracious."

"That's only thanks to you," Arthur chuckled weakly, "So stop flattering yourself."

"You are tired," the sorcerer noted, drawing another small grin from Arthur as he glanced up at him, "Truly? What gave me away?"

But Merlin didn't answer, relishing in the comfortable silence between them.

"Sleep," he said finally and ran his fingers over his king's brow, "Come morning you'll feel fine again."

"Hmm," Arthur blinked and mumbled something incoherent, his eyes drifting shut, face turning into the pillow. Merlin stood up and tried to pull his hand away but startled slightly when Bradley suddenly gripped his wrist in an iron hold.

"Let go," Merlin said calmly but with a frown because although Bradley's eyes were still only half-lidded and he seemed barely conscious he was still directing a rather foul glare at the sorcerer.

"Stay," he ordered, stubbornly holding on, "I don't want you to leave."

"I'm not leaving," Merlin told him, "I just wanted to get changed and sleep in my own bed instead of sitting by yours."

"I miss you," Bradley claimed sleepily and Merlin blinked in confusion, "But I'm right here."

"No," Bradley shook his head like a tired, little child, "I miss Colin. You're almost always Merlin now. I like you both, but I want Colin back sometimes."

"Oh," Merlin really didn't know how to react to that. He had never put any thought in the matter.

"I guess I can do that," he replied carefully, peeling away the translucent layers until there was only Colin left, "For you I can."  
"Good," Bradley cuddled back into the pillow, still not letting go of his friend's arm, "Else there'll be hell to pay."

Slowly realization dawned to Colin. Maybe that was the reason why Bradley behaved so strangely in between. He had been trying to literally tickle Colin out of Merlin and was disappointed when he failed.

It was a strange notion, but a plausible one now that he really thought about it.

When he had first met Bradley, had stood in front of him for the first time, he had been torn between exhilaration and denial. Yes, he had found Arthur's rebirth, but that man was not really Arthur, had little in common with him, safe for his looks and that bright smile, at least at first glance. Merlin had spent an endless time waiting for it and yet, in that crucial moment, he refused to believe that this was how it was supposed to be.

Colin and Bradley had had a slightly rocky start together and that could be partly attributed to the fact that Merlin felt so confused and alone in the presence of this man that had once been his king, had been his destiny.

Of course he had gotten more comfortable with that thought, especially when the two of them grew closer and became friends after all. Every time Merlin spotted a little bit of Arthur in Bradley, in his words, his gestures, he was drunken one the mere sight of it. It had been excruciating to wait for his déjà vu and true awakening.

But looking back at it he knew that it had helped him appreciate Bradley for who he was instead of expecting him to be Arthur all of the time. Bradley himself, however, had to overcome some more difficulties, suddenly faced with two versions of his friend. It was no surprise really that he wanted to be a little bit selfish every now and again and craved Colin's familiar presence.

So he would be Colin and not mope around like he tended to do when he was wise old Merlin. And admittedly, he quite enjoyed the ease of being young man without any real problems.

And what problems did he have after all? Sure, there was that thing with his destiny, but it had more or less worked out the first time around, so why shouldn't it now? At least no one was destined to die by Mordred's hand. In comparison things were definitely looking up.

Colin waited until he was sure that Bradley had really fallen asleep. Then he carefully extracted his wrist from the now lose grip and stood up from the bed. Absent-mindedly he waved his hand to change into his pajamas and get himself ready for bed, brushed teeth and clean face included.

Then he strolled over to his own bed that stood parallel to Bradley's and climbed in, pulling his blankets up to his ears and huddling into the comfortable warmth.

With a thought he put out the light. Yes, he mused with a smile as he closed his eyes. Tomorrow there would be enough time to worry about his destiny. This was only the beginning.

**~o0o~**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you are uncomfortable with (RPF) Slash then you should stop reading her because the next chapter with include some lash. As the story itself is pretty much told, though, you will not miss much.


	5. Significance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Is it wrong of me?" he asked haltingly, "To think like this?"  
> "After you death she allowed herself to love Lancelot," Merlin answered in an equally timid voice, "Why should you not allow yourself to love again after hers?"  
> "I do not love easily," Arthur reminded him, warned him, "I am possessive, I am jealous."  
> "You are passionate," Merlin only replied, "And faithful."

**Significance**

  
Arthur's movements were graceful and deadly as he danced through the light forest, without ever faltering, without pausing to catch his breath. It looked perfectly choreographed, not a single step out of place, not an inch too much.  
Excalibur was in his hands and it gleamed, the blade singing as it whizzed through the air.  
A somewhat feral roar escaped Arthur's lips, his eyes flashed gold and he let his sword speed towards the beech directly in front of him. But instead of getting stuck in the wood Excalibur neatly sliced through it in one fluid motion. The tree, however, remained standing, the vicious cut magically sewing itself up, merely a split second after the blade had touched it.  
Arthur spun around again, turning on his heel and coming to a halt with both feet wide apart and solid on the ground, letting Excalibur slide back into the sheath with one elegant twist of his hand.  
For a moment there was only the silence of the wind rustling through the foliage. Then someone stared applauding.  
"Bravo, sire," Colin called from where he was leaning against a different tree only a few meters to the side, "That looked really impressive."  
Bradley snapped his head to the side to glare at him, annoyed by the obvious teasing.  
"Fuck off," he snarled, concentrated on a twig directly above Colin and let it crash down.  
As expected Colin yelped, more in surprise than pain, when it landed on his head.  
"Hey!" he complained, rubbing the sore spot, "Are you trying to kill me?"  
"As if that would kill you," Bradley huffed, kicking against the decaying leaves to his feet.  
"What, never heard of people randomly being crushed by falling branches?"  
"That wasn't a branch," Bradley pointed out, "That was barely a twig."  
"Suit yourself," Colin pouted, made a rude gesture and then conjured a cup of coffee into his hand, "What's got you in a strop today?"  
"Nothing," Bradley replied gruffly, wiping his forearm across his nose, and kicked the leaves yet again.  
"Oh, c'mon, the poor trees can't be at fault for whatever happened," Colin's eyes were twinkling, unaffected by the bad mood, "Remember, trees are your friends."  
"Trees are only a means to exert my power."  
"Your power over what?"  
"Fuck if I know," Bradley grumbled, weakly punching the bark. Stupid tree.  
Merlin gave a long-suffering sigh, "Are you having another one of your 'My life is meaningless and doesn't have a purpose'-moments?"  
"So what if I am?" Bradley pouted, leaning his forehead against the trunk, and just for good measure he added, "You sold my destiny!"  
"That was one-thousand-and-five-hundred years ago," Merlin reminded him, "You weren't even born back then."  
"Your jokes suck," Bradley complained, "And so does all of this."  
Merlin took a sip of his coffee, for a long moment only staring at Bradley in a contemplative manner.  
"What distracted you last time?" he asked finally, "When you were feeling that it was all useless?"  
Bradley's pout intensified.  
"You did," he admitted reluctantly, but refused to turn and face Merlin. Bradley wasn't someone who got easily depressed and even if he did it never lasted long; he knew he was acting childish but sometimes he just needed to get it out of his system. Merlin was so much more compared to him. Being the sidekick was more degrading that he ever would have thought.  
"Arthur," Merlin said with an understanding smile, "Come over here."  
With a slump of his shoulders Bradley gave in to the indirect request to let Arthur take over again. It was probably easier that way. Merlin was always nicer to Arthur. Colin was nicer to Arthur, too. Heck, everyone was always nicer to Arthur. No one was ever nice to Bradley.  
Feeling another big wave of sulking coming on, he quickly withdrew and Arthur stepped forth, standing up straight, pulling his hand from the tree and stepping over to where Merlin was casually leaning against his maple.  
With a haughty smirk he grabbed the cup from Merlin's hand to take a big gulp, only to pull a disgusted face. God, he hated the taste of coffee. But that was worth it to see Merlin cock an eyebrow and thus distract him from the actual problem. Namely the lack of purpose.  
Merlin shook his head in despair.  
"I swear you're like a big child," he said helplessly, "Just less cute."  
"I beg to differ," Arthur put up a hideously adorable expression, "The king is always cute. Anyone who disagrees will be burned on the pyre."  
"Of course, my lord," Merlin agreed with a weak nod, "You are the cutest thing to ever have touched the earth. Safe for baby rabbits."  
"Baby rabbits are meant to become grown up rabbits," Arthur reminded him, "And we eat grown up rabbits."  
"You eat grown up rabbits," Merlin replied, "I am vegetarian."  
"You call it vegetarian," Arthur countered seriously, "I call it unnatural."  
"Call it what you will it still doesn't change a thing about the fact that I can't stand your never-ending moping."  
"It's not my fault!" Arthur tried to object, "It's- This world- Bradley is too insignificant to bear!"  
Colin stared at him, his mouth hanging open a little bit, but after a moment he caught himself again.  
"You… do realize how pompous and arrogant that sounds, right?" he asked, his brow furrowed.  
"I know!" Arthur was frowning at himself, "Of course I know. And it makes me feel terrible. I make him feel terrible. And in return he does the same to me."  
"Here we go," Colin let out a long breath and rolled his eyes, "The long-awaited identity crisis."  
"I can't help it," Arthur was clenching his fists, "I- Hold on! You expected this? I clearly remember you telling me that there would be no problem whatsoever after my awakening."  
"Well," Colin admitted with a small, embarrassed smile, "That might've been a bit of a stretch. There would be no real problems."  
Arthur glowered at him, "I certainly do feel that my problems are very much real, you blockhead."  
"Yea, they're real, but not really severe," Colin pointed out.  
Arthur only cocked an eyebrow, "And that makes a difference because?"  
"Don't you remember how I told you that your déjà vu might've driven you mad or even killed you?" Colin reminded him, "So-"  
"Wait a moment," Arthur held up a hand, "You never said anything about the possibility of my death."  
"Didn't I?" Colin blinked, "Must've slipped my mind. My bad. So as I was saying-"  
"Slipped your mind?" Arthur hollered, "I could have died! Again!"  
"Hey, without me you wouldn't even have been able to do that because you wouldn't have been reborn in the first place!" Colin pouted, "So you should be grateful. Now, if we may return to the problem at hand: your problem, as I feel the need to point out."  
Arthur managed to keep him mouth shut, though he did so with great reluctance. Colin continued with a barely suppressed sigh.  
"Anyway, your identity crisis," he said, staring first at the ground and then at a point somewhere just across Arthur's shoulder.  
"There was always a risk of something like that happening," he conceded, "But I knew that both of you, respectively as Arthur and Bradley were mentally strong enough to work it out. And you did. No batshit crazy ancient un-dead king of yore hopping all over the place. But… I anticipated that you would reach a certain point of… discontent."  
Arthur gave him a hard look, expecting him to say more.  
"Arthur," Colin gave in, placing a hand upon his shoulder, "I feared that something like this would happen. And… I know that you're not entirely joking when you complain about your sold destiny. Once you were born for a greater purpose and your spirit grew according to it. You have all this courage, all this fire, this radiance that draws people towards you. And yet there is nothing for you to spend it on. I watch you waste your smiles day after day while you try to fit into this life that is far too small for someone like you."  
Slowly, very slowly Colin blended into Merlin as he spoke, his gaze growing fonder and softer and easier to read.  
"On the other hand," he continued, his own fingers, still warm and trusted, digging into the fabric of Arthur's shirt, "On the other hand there is Bradley who knows what you want, what you need, but who can't give it to you. He blames himself, doesn't he, and you can feel it as well. You were once a king while he is just a man. He's already stretched thin and yet he still tries to do what is right, what is best, risking losing himself in the process."  
Merlin smiled sadly, "He's very much like you in that aspect."  
Arthur's mouth opened to say something, but then his face twisted and Bradley stepped back, trying to turn away.  
"Bullocks," he snorted as if gravely offended, though his voice sounded raw, "Stop analyzing every little thing that clotpole drones on about."  
"Arthur," Merlin only called, letting his coffee cup hovering in the air to grab Bradley's face with both hands and gently turn him back to him, "Tell me what's troubling you. Tell me how I can help."  
Arthur let out a shuddering breath.  
"You'd think in this life I'd finally learn to solve my problems on my own, right?" he tried to jest, but his pained expression belied the jovial tone.  
"Arthur," Merlin only repeated, his thumbs brushing over the hollows of his king's cheeks, "Have you been thinking about Guinevere again?"  
At this question Arthur's eyes fell shut and he didn't open them for a long while.  
"When do I not think of her?" he asked finally, though his gaze was averted.  
But Merlin gave him a kind smile, "If I am to read your face now or any other moment I spend with you then I'd say that you rarely do."  
A shiver went through Arthur's body and he made to pull back again; it was only Merlin's touch that still kept him in place.  
"You need not lie to me," Merlin chided him gently, "You mustn't. Do you hear that, Arthur? We have lied to each other for such a long time. I have tired of it."  
But Arthur only swallowed dryly, his voice hollow.  
"How did you know?" he demanded, "Is it that obvious?"  
"Only to me," Merlin's smile was still sad, "And you should know that I do not judge you for it. And neither should you blame yourself."  
"How could I not?" Arthur appeared to be angry at himself, staring hard at bark behind his friend's head, "How can I live again and not spend every moment yearning for the woman I loved, my wife, my queen?"  
"She's not the woman you loved," Merlin corrected, "She's the one you still love. And you always will. But deep down you have accepted that you will not be reunited with her. Not until your death. It'd be unfair to ask anything else of you, to expect you to go walk this world alone, to let Bradley never have the pleasure of knowing what it feels like to be complete."  
"I should allow him to find someone," Arthur told himself haltingly, "I should give him the chance to make a decision on his own without my own emotions overpowering his."  
At this Merlin laughed, "Oh please. He's at least as stubborn as you are. You would not be able to influence him like that."  
"Then he should love someone of his own choice," Arthur insisted, "Someone whom he can readily welcome in his life, unbiased and without prejudices. If I were to follow my heart, then my affections-"  
And then he broke off, letting the words dangle in the air between them like the sword of Damocles, dangerous and thrilling.  
"Your affections," Merlin said and maybe there was something akin to hope in his eyes, "Have always rested with those who deserved them."  
Arthur gave a startled laugh.  
"May I remind you of the Tylwyth Teg's enchantment?" he asked, wrestling a grin from Merlin's lips.  
"Yea well," said the sorcerer, "Your affections willingly given were always well deserved."  
"That might just be true," Arthur allowed and then they were just staring at each other as if seeing that familiar face clearly for the first time in a long while, for some reason suddenly only an inch apart, as if the bond they shared included some sort of physical gravitation as well.  
"Is it wrong of me?" Arthur finally asked with some poorly hidden hesitation, "To think like this?"  
"After you death she allowed herself to love Lancelot," Merlin answered in an equally timid voice, "Why should you not allow yourself to love again after hers?"  
"I do not love easily," Arthur reminded him, warned him, "I am possessive, I am jealous."  
"You are passionate." Merlin only replied, "And faithful."  
It was so easy then to close that last inch, an inch that might've been there for one and a half millennia, a distance too vast, too intimidating, too dangerous. The kiss itself, though, was gentle, was a promise – like everything else between them – of greater things to come.  
Slowly they pulled back again.  
"Whoa," Bradley said, blinking, "That was weird."  
"Uh-huh," Colin agreed eloquently and then leaned in again to capture those lips once more. Bradley made an unintelligible noise but surrendered into it.  
"I knew it," he murmured against Colin's mouth, "This whole rebirth thing did fuck me up."  
"Be quiet," Colin only ordered and moments passed as they just stood there, pressed up against that tree, kissing and kissing and not a care in the world.  
"Colin," Bradley said after a while, touching their foreheads together, "Your eyes are glowing."  
"Oh," Colin hummed, "Yours, too."  
At that Bradley only smiled against his lips.  
"Figures," he said and pecked Colin playfully.  
"Huh? Why?"  
"It's magic," Bradley answered and Colin couldn't help but laugh into the kiss.  
"You are such a girl, Bradley!"  
Later, when they lay side by side in the meadow, the blades of grass tickling their skin and their fingertips brushing, they stared up into the sky and into their future that was no longer written in the stars.  
"What are we going to tell everyone?" Bradley asked suddenly, turning his head to face Colin.  
"What?" Colin asked lazily, "You think anyone will be surprised?"  
Bradley chuckled, "Probably not. Katie will only cheer us on."  
"Katie will demand that it'd be put into the show."  
"But then Angel wouldn't get any screen time."  
"She can have Lancelot," Colin mused, "And you won't even have to die for that."  
"Very funny," Bradley huffed, "But I'm okay with it as long as she keeps pining for a little while."  
"Both Gwen and Angel are too proud to pine."  
"Oh?" Arthur rolled onto his side to give him an imploring look, "And what about you? Did you pine?"  
"For you?" Colin shifted slightly, leaving Merlin in his place, "Possibly. In the beginning. When you hadn't met Guinevere yet."  
"I couldn't love you back then," Arthur told him seriously, an explanation and an apology, "Even though I might have wanted."  
"We lost so much time," Merlin lamented, lifting his hand to touch his king's cheek, "Wasted it all."  
"We did neither waste nor lose," Arthur objected, "We used it wisely and did what we deemed best. But thanks to you we are granted one more life together. And we can live it to the fullest."  
"Well spoken, my king," Merlin whispered, "I would follow you into battle anytime you wished."  
"Not battle," Arthur shook his head, "No war, no swords, no pain. This world is meant for tender passions."  
Colin burst out laughing.  
"I knew it!" he wheezed, holding his stomach, "A couple of kisses and you actually do turn into a girl."  
"You're only saying that so you can deny being gay," Bradley pouted and then Colin propped himself up on his elbow to press a kiss into the corner of his mouth.  
"I'm not gay," he claimed, "But I do love you."  
"Must you speak like that blasted dragon?" Bradley groaned and let himself fall back into the grass, "Then again, if it were for him we would've hit it off in the very first episode. Was that your dropping a subtle hint?"  
"That was my knowing teenage girls love seeing two fit guys being destined for each other," Colin replied smugly, closed his eyes and turned his face back to the sunlight.  
  


**~o0o~**

  
"I knew it!" Katie exclaimed triumphantly, eyes fixed onto the screen of her laptop that displayed Bradley's latest email.  
"What is it?" Angel asked curiously from the other end of the phone line.  
"Bradley and Colin," Katie answered smugly, "They are shagging!"  
"No way!" Angel gasped, "How do you know?"  
"Bradley updated me on their mission," Katie explained, "They are currently in Devon and 'decided to stay a little while longer because the cottage is so nice and Merlin suspects more hidden sources of magic in the area'. They've already been there for a week. Reading between the lines it means they are too busy shagging to get anything else done."  
"You think?" Angel sounded dubious, "Why would they suddenly-"  
"Suddenly?" Katie echoed, "They had it coming for hundreds of years!"  
"No, I mean…" Angel shuffled around a bit, "Why do you think it happened now and not, I dunno, when they were in Australia?"  
"There were too many people around to distract them," Katie deduced, "Now, though, it's just two guys, full of horny hormones, somewhere in a lonely cottage. There's a beautiful forest all around, there is magic, and the only one they can turn to is each other."  
"Oh," Angel sounded a bit dumbfounded, then, "Do you think… do you think it's only because of Arthur and Merlin?"  
Katie frowned, "How do you mean?"  
"Well," Angel swallowed nervously, "I'd hate to think they are only doing this out of some sort of obligation towards their former lives, you know. Giving it a chance now because they knew they couldn't back then."  
"Are you trying to tell me you honestly believe Bradley and Colin allow Arthur and Merlin to borrow their bodies and do the naughty?" Katie sniggered, "Seriously, you know that's not how rebirth works. And you know the two of them always had a strong bond, even before Arthur awoke and before Bradley knew the truth. Not to mention that by now he is much better in controlling the switching. And let's face the facts: the fans always thought Arthur and Merlin were shagging, and the fans always thought Bradley and Colin were shagging. Heck, at some point we thought the same. It's not like it comes totally out of the blue."  
"It doesn't," Angel admitted, "I'm just trying to wrap my mind around the matter. You keep saying they are shagging, but… they are probably really truly in love, aren't they?"  
"Yes," Katie smiled serenely, "Yes, they are."  
"I knew the way they looked at each other was fishy!" Angel crooned happily, "Watching them feels downright indecent."  
"Oh yes," Katie's smile grew dirty, "Yes, it does."  
She paused for a moment, "… Do you think we can put that into the show?"  
"Katie," Angel pointed out smoothly, "It already is in the show."  
The rest of the evening was gleefully spent trying to come up with more and more creative plotlines to pair up Merlin and Arthur in the next season. And to tease the hell out of the boys. Because even if nowadays destiny possibly disagreed, they really had had it coming.  
  


**~o0o~The End~o0o~**

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaand that's it. I could have gone on about how they are still destined to share a path, but I thought that was pretty much obvious. Especially now that they've got the Katie&Angel Stamp of Approval.

**Author's Note:**

> In theory, you could stop reading here because this was originally a oneshot that developed into a tiny monster. If you want to find out what Angel and Katie think about all this, you should click for the next chapter. :)


End file.
